So probably to the surprise of my dentist I turned up for my six monthly check up and cleaning before the six months had elapsed. She knows I hate the visits to the dentist, I never used to but having left it 10 years without visiting as I moved from place to place it seems the enamel is not as strong as it was as a child, when I used to wonder why people were afraid of the dentist.Less enamel equals more discomfort in the cleaning, at least as far as I'm concerned. Since the husband and wife dental practice I attend worked for 10 years in the USA during the difficult years of the 1980's in Nicaragua they have the added advantage of speaking fluent English, particularly useful since my dental related vocabulary isn't as well developed as my sewage and engineering related vocabulary.
My dentist visit at the end of the day reminded me of another thing I like about being in Nicaragua. My dentist builds in extra time knowing she'll have to go slow and use less abrasive and quick techniques, break and talking time is built in. Each time I learn something new about them as people, admittedly there are certain moments when the two way element of a conversation is somewhat limited as some implement or other is thrust into your mouth. Since it was the last appointment on Friday there seemed no rush, no desire to shut up shop and be gone, we talked about politics both Nicaraguan and the riots that had broken out in England, about racial prejudice, about our tendency to be more fearful and risk-conscious as we get older and about moving countries.
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