« Peu importe. Mon cerveau pense que je le ferai. Mon cerveau est aux commandes. »
Le dentiste s’arrêta, l’observant comme un mécanicien chevronné étudie un moteur qui émet un bruit nouveau, inconnu. Ce n’est pas insoluble, mais il faudra clairement de la créativité.
“Okay,” he said, trying a new angle. “We could try oral sedation. A pill.”
The man brightened instantly.
“Oh! Pills I can do. Pills are fine. Pills are great. Give me a pill.”
Perfect, the dentist thought. A nice, mild sedative. Enough to dull the edges, take the panic down a notch. Let’s get this tooth out and get this man back to whatever life he lives where needles and gas don’t exist.
Dr. Patel reached into the drawer and took out a small tablet. Plain. Harmless. Effective.
He placed it in the patient’s palm.
“Here,” he said. “Take this. It’ll help.”
The man eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Viagra.”
A long beat of total confusion followed. The patient blinked.
“Viagra? Wait… Viagra works as a painkiller?”
“It doesn’t,” the dentist said, deadpan. “But it’ll give you something to hold onto while I pull your tooth.”
For a split second, the room was completely silent. Then the patient’s jaw dropped. His eyebrows shot up. A noise escaped him that was somewhere between a gasp, a laugh, and an indignant sputter.
