The first time I was stabbed in the face
A few minutes in the dentist's chair has become a symbol of really, really poor communication and of what causes it.
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THE dentist had the sharp end of the blade inches from my face.
It was only then that he chose to tell me what he was seconds away from doing to my mouth. "There will be some tethering," he said.
I froze. Tethering? My mind was racing. What does he mean? How could the word ethering apply to my mouth? He seemed impatient, and I didn't want to annoy him, but he was, after all, about to put a scalpel in my mouth. I asked him what he meant by tethering. He looked surprised, as if I should know the meaning of a simple word. He began barking at me. "Tethering, tethering!" he said.
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