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My Dentist Died…

 

Well, he didn’t exactly die.…He retired.

I had been going to him and his father before him (now retired and 100 years of age) for 53 years. He had been my doctor since before I was married. His father was my husband’s and his family’s doctor. And was very well thought of as was his son, who just recently (didn’t) die!

He was my doctor all through the deaths of my mother-in-law and my husband.

Poof, one moment he was my dentist, my rescuer in times of tooth problems, who had become a friend.  Then the next moment he transitioned into someone I could no longer count on, someone who was…gone. Someone who had sold (out) his practice and his loyal, loving patients for money. Not that he didn’t have every right to do so BUT he could have checked out the new guy for us first, and introduced us.  We deserved that at least.

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