On Friday I had a wisdom tooth removed. Then I had an extreme reaction to the antibiotics my dentist prescribed (don’t ask!). Early this morning, the dentist being closed and my regular GP not available, I made my way down the street to the medical centre at our local supermarket.
November verse 10: At the Marrickville Metro Medical and Dental Centre
We wait our turns and while we’re waiting
Wallabies up on the wall
are playing France. The wait's frustrating:
phones and earbuds keep us all
connected elsewhere – seeing, hearing
things that aren't the thing we're sharing.
One man tells a joke in Greek.
His friend laughs but she doesn't speak.
I've hardly slept, my face is aching,
reading hurts, my phone is dead,
and so I'm rhyming in my head.
No one's dying, no one's making
scenes the movies would applaud.
We each wait til our name is called.
I was seen after an hour or so, the doctor was sympathetic and efficient, I was bulk billed and the replacement antibiotic has produced no ill effects.
Me fail? I fly! 