It’s been on my mind to go see a dentist, but somehow, life kept getting in the way. My calendar was packed with commitments: work deadlines, personal errands, things that seemed urgent but, in hindsight, were just distractions. Yet, on this particular day, an impulse took over. I shut everything down, grabbed my bag, and headed to the clinic without an appointment, without certainty, just sheer determination.
Halfway there, doubt crept in. It was late afternoon, and knowing this place doubled as both a school and a clinic, the chances of seeing a dentist without a prior booking were slim. Very slim. I imagined a crowded waiting room, overwhelmed staff, and the inevitable words: “Sorry, we’re fully booked.” But I had already committed. I was going anyway.
When I arrived, I braced myself for a sea of patients and the usual hustle of a medical facility. Instead, I was met with an almost eerie quietness. The waiting room was practically empty except for a woman feeding her child in the corner. No anxious faces flipping through old magazines, no nurses calling out names. Just silence.
I approached the woman, asking who I needed to see. She pointed at a door with a small peephole. I took a deep breath, walked over, and peered through the glass. The office inside was empty. 🤨
I decided to wait.
A little while later, movement behind the door caught my eye. Finally, some hope. I approached the lady who had just entered and asked about the possibility of a consultation. She barely acknowledged me, her focus glued to her papers as she muttered, “Come back tomorrow.”
Now, I am not one to read too much into body language, but the fact that she did not even spare me a glance? That said enough. Maybe she was exhausted. Maybe she had a long day. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Whatever the case, the message was clear: Not today.
Feeling slightly defeated, I retreated to the waiting area, plopped into a chair, and exhaled. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts before stepping back into the relentless afternoon sun. The thought of coming back another day wasn’t entirely appealing, especially after mustering the courage to walk in without an appointment.
I was about to leave when I heard a voice. Not just any voice, but one so cheerful and full of life that it seemed to inject colour into the sterile white walls of the clinic. I turned to see the source. A woman, possibly in her late forties or early fifties, speaking to a patient with infectious energy.
She was encouraging the man to keep his next appointment, offering to retrieve his receipts from the cashier. Something about her struck me. She wasn’t in a lab coat, no scrubs, no identification badge to indicate her role. Yet, she carried herself with such presence, as though she belonged everywhere at once.
It was instinct. I knew she was the person I needed to talk to.
My Borrowed Appointment
I approached her, half-expecting her to say she was just a visitor or a volunteer. Instead, within minutes, I found myself seated face-to-face with a doctor!
It turns out that the cheerful woman was the receptionist. Yes, the receptionist. And somehow, through her sheer warmth, helpfulness, and ability to cut through the usual bureaucracy, I got a consultation that same day.
The doctor, after a quick assessment, recommended a procedure. I braced myself for another scheduling dilemma, expecting to be told to come back in a week or two. But no, the procedure was done right there and then.
I couldn’t believe it.
Had I accepted my initial rejection and left, I would have spent weeks postponing, procrastinating, and suffering. But thanks to my unexpected savior, the receptionist, I walked out of the clinic that day having ticked something important off my list.
While I sat there recovering from my surprise (and a mildly uncomfortable dental procedure), I observed her some more. She had the same bubbly energy with everyone: patients, doctors, and students. She moved effortlessly between roles, bridging gaps in communication, ensuring things got done. It was almost as if the place functioned better because of her.
I found myself smiling as I thought about how some people make life easier for others without even trying. They don’t wear capes, they don’t make headlines, and yet, they create little miracles in the lives of strangers every single day.
I had borrowed someone else’s appointment that day, yes, but what I truly borrowed was a moment of kindness, a reminder that warmth and helpfulness still exist in places where red tape and indifference often reign.
And as I left the clinic, I realised something else: I wasn’t just looking forward to my next appointment with the dentist. I was looking forward to seeing her.
Not because I needed her help again, but because some people just make the world feel lighter. Even if my next procedure won’t be in her department, I will find her, exchange a few words, and collect a smile from that radiant face. Because that’s what happens when someone touches your day in a way you didn’t expect.
You remember them.
And you come back for more.
Have you ever met someone like her, someone whose kindness opened doors you couldn’t have accessed on your own? A stranger who, without realising it, changed the course of your day (or even your life)? I’d love to hear your story. Share it in the comments.
Stay frosty
