“Taylor?…. Taylor Jones?”

“Oh, that’s me.”  Taylor stood up from her seat in the waiting room and placed the magazine back on the coffee table.

“Come with me.”

Taylor followed the dental assistant to the back where she was led into a sterile exam room.  The examination chair was covered in plastic, tools placed neatly on a small tray suspended by a metal arm, hovering next to the chair.  Taylor picked the regular chair in the corner.  It’s hard plastic seat didn’t look nearly as comfortable as the cushioned chairs in the waiting room, but it was better than half lying down in an exam chair. 

“Someone will be right with you.”  The dental assistant smiled and closed the door behind her.

Taylor shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked around the room – a jar of cottonballs decorated the counter next to a small computer – That’s new.  The miniature toilet bowl she remembered spitting in had been replaced by a spit-sucking straw, also hovering nearby.  Why do they always keep you waiting for so long?  She thought about getting up to leave, but it had taken so much courage just to get here – years worth of courage.  Why are dentists so scary?  

The door flung open.  “Hello.  You must be Taylor.  So nice to meet you.”

It wouldn’t be long before she would have the answer to that question.