Massoud Sanei:
Rahim Estbarqi:
You have passed the forty years as a dentist and you have reached the end of the line. Around the age of fifty, your back vertebrae start to creak. Your hands start to tremble and your eyes begin to shrink. In the first step, you gradually bind the posterior ends and only the anterior ones. Then you bind all the ends and only repair and prosthetics – if your back and neck allow it. You are stretched because your elbows, wrists, and lower back sound like an orchestra while you pull out your teeth, and they play the 44th symphony, “Wow, I’m old, I’m gone.”
You passed the age of 40, each of your fellow university students you meet is doing their own work in their own corner. One is building a tower and the other has been fighting elevators and forceps for years. Those who are left live, one of them has another chain of clinics in the city and is constantly running dogs, the other one sets up a barbecue in the Kurdan garden every seven days a week, and the first student of the class, Nazanin, lives in the eighty-eighth row of thirty-two Behesht Zahra. Everyone is busy in their own comfort and after forty years there is no question about anyone’s status. Because everyone’s situation is the same, the memories of hundreds of repaired teeth are imprinted in everyone’s mind, thousands of irrigation canals. Hundreds of artificial teeth arranged on dentures, dozens of broken and left roots, and thousands of worn and faded smiles have become wrinkles that sit on our foreheads and faces.
But we are the same 18-19-year-olds who laughed at the names of the branches of the jugular artery in the anatomy class today, and climbed up to see the stinking corpse and the practical anatomy.
Our children have grown up and little by little we are even thinking about their well-being. We are always worried about the future. We are worried about old age, retirement, living expenses, worried about back pain, headaches, the lump-like stiffness that we have felt under our armpits, worried about the patients in the office, worried about the grief that we experienced twenty years ago. Worried about the restoration of the beauty of Tare’s wedding dress that we did for her last week before the engagement. And worried about our own teeth that they violated the covenant of the dentist’s teeth should not be damaged, worried about piece eighty-eight, row thirty-two, not to worry after all this.
We know that we are going. Our life may be the life of the first-class restoration that we meticulously and obsessively spent time on our patient’s tooth on the first day of the restoration department, or the denture that we delivered to an 80-year-old man a few years ago who wanted to renew it on the hand of his first wife. or even from the tooth with furca involvement, which we treated with poor prognosis at the patient’s insistence and said that it will not last more than a year! Who knows. Maybe even our life from the date of use of composite and bonding, which had an expiration date of two months, and then From shopping, we realized that our heads are covered with hats as usual. May our souls be blessed
This post is written by Drmohammadi_pedodontist