It’s the hardest idealization in life.
The experience of waiting for the last beep on my assistant’s light cure unit. What gives?
It’s only 20 seconds. And yet, I feel eternity ticking away. My impatience throwing internal temper tantrums with every filling. A wave of dread washes over me realizing the contact is slightly open and needing touch up tells me I’ll need 5 more eternities to use up for this patient.
It’s innately built into us to not have idle time. Irritating us to our core buildup. There is a validity in life when utilizing it to our fullest capability. But in those 20 seconds of waiting, I realize also how great it is to be sitting here.
Amongst friends. My patient and my assistant. All striving for a single goal. Providing superstar service and work. 20 seconds is truly an eternity.
You can flash memories of your baby dentisting days when this seems so foreign, now just a blip within the day.
20 seconds tells you that this time used to be filled with mixing and packing amalgam back in the day (for those of you amalgam free).
Another 20 seconds forwards you to your mid-career, where you feel the peak of greatness and efficiency. Patients ready on the whim of your treatment plans as your relationships have blossomed. Staff orchestrating a symphony of treatment day in and day out.
The last 20 seconds of the cure, you approach the end. Realizing the greater impact you’ve had on your community. The outreach, the toothaches resolved and the smiles generated. It’s a superb feeling.
It only takes 20 seconds of a blue light, to remind you how quick everything is moving around you. But in these 20 seconds, it all forcibly slows down. These reminders help put a bit of perspective.
What a thriving situation you’ve put yourself in. Congrats on a job well done my friend. Just don’t give away too many eternity’s or else the journey ends way too quick.
Lam