As you know I lived in France for most of my childhood until the age of 12. I was referred to my orthodontist by my local doctor. The practice was situated in Bordeaux which was useful on Fridays as I would usually have my appointments before going back home for the weekend.
It was a very unusual surgery. Below was an office which was a seperate company altogether then you climbed up two flights of stairs to a small dental practice. There was one receptionist who I felt sorry for as she was always busy running around being a dental nurse for three dentists, managing the door and the phone as well as booking appointments.
I didn't get proper braces till about a year after. I had a lot of x rays and impressions taken. The X-ray camera looked like a small Polaroid. I had my first removable brace a year after and it was a real pain. The resin was attached by elastic bands which then had a harness over my head so the elastic bands would either bounce across the room or come loose. Every 4 months I would go back for more X-rays and impressions. The worst part was when he was measuring the brace he would trim the resin off and put it straight in my mouth and I would scream.
The year after I started having proper braces which I had removed every 6 months which he would do a proper clean and polish before he would put a clean set of braces on. I was in total agony with all the prodding and the pulling, there was no sedation at all so I had to deal with all the pain.
The last time I saw my dentist was when I was 12 years old. He had just taken some new X-rays and said that I had to have 4 extractions. This was all new to me. As soon as I saw the pliers I said to myself 'this is gonna hurt'. Unfortunately the dentist was in a panic and didn't know what he was doing and was in such a rush. Before I knew it the pliers came out, I opened my mouth, he fell on top of me and the syringe liquid went all over my clothes. I then ended up having 4 extractions with no form of numbness or sedation.
A few months later his receptionist rang us to say that he had suffered a heart attack and was put into intensive care and we were advised to see his son. We arrived, had a chat, he kept panicking about what his dad would say if he was there. In the end my mother said 'he's uconscious I don't think he cares what you do to my daughter just do something'. In the end he removed my old braces, gave me a clean, put new braces on and sent me home.
The following month my mother had a phone call to say his dad had passed from a heart attack.