My family dentist is a respected figure in the community, respected for his expertise, his professionalism and his dedication to our family.
He has always treated us with respect and is now in a position where we don’t have to be ashamed to speak his name, I told him recently when he was visiting my home.
But I was a bit taken aback by his attitude towards me.
“I love my job.
I love what I do,” he said.”
I love working in the family dental clinic.
But my family does not respect you as a patient.
They don’t know you.
You need to be able to treat your patients with dignity and respect.”
This was something he said many times over the years.
“They don’t understand my work.
They think I am a criminal.
They hate my profession,” he continued.
“My family is not proud of my work.”‘
No respect’The family dental practice, located in a shopping centre in north west Sydney, is the only one in the state that accepts new patients, but the practice is still subject to the whims of the family dentist.
It’s a situation that has left some patients, including my own mother, deeply offended.
My mother and I were both in the practice for a year when the dentist came in to get a routine tooth extracted, with my teeth pulled out.
I had already had one extraction done and, because my mouth was swollen, I was left with a small scar on my jaw.
When the dentist saw this, he decided to perform another extraction and cut the tooth.
I was shocked.
He had to cut me open and he took out my heart, he said as he looked at me in the mirror.
I thought I was being cut, he told me.
“It was so disrespectful.
I thought I had been cut in half,” he told The Jerusalem Report.
“It was like a knife through my heart.”
“He was not treating me with respect, and he was cutting off my heart.
He had cut my heart out and he had cut off my life.”
The next day, the family told the dental team to send a letter of apology to my mother and to inform her that they had made a mistake and that they would not accept her as a client.
The letter said that they could not accept my mother as a family patient anymore, and that I would no longer be a family dentist or participate in their practice.
This is not the first time my family has been at odds with a dentist.
Last year, when my mother was in the dental clinic, the dentist told her she would not be able visit with her son until he finished school.
The dentist told my mother that he would never allow her to see him again and said that he was a drug addict.
My mother was left devastated, she said.
As my mother, a mother of four, sat in a wheelchair at a hospital in Newcastle for a week, I felt I had to speak out.
In 2014, the Tel Aviv University clinic in Jerusalem refused to give me a referral to another dentist, saying they would have to have a separate appointment for my mother.
This time I had a separate visit with my mother at a local clinic in the CBD, with the dental office not present.
At the time, the dental department was still operating with an anaesthetic mask and I could hear the dentist cutting my jaw with a large blade.
On my way back to my home in north east Sydney, my son was taken away from me by the family to the waiting room.
A few days later, the office told me that they were closing and that my mother would have her teeth extracted on January 1st.
For me, this was a slap in the face, I said.
I felt betrayed.
My parents had told me they would never accept me as a child patient again.
They would never let me see my mother again.
I went to my dentist on January 8th and had my teeth extracted.
After a few weeks, the hospital told me I was no longer a family client and that no longer could I see my parents.
There was no apology, no apology from the dentist, and no apology at all from the dental staff, I wrote to the Tel, Israel, hospital.
I wanted them to know that they have lost the trust of my family.
Two weeks after my teeth were extracted, my mother received a letter from my dentist.
“You have been in the waiting rooms for too long, my dear mother,” he wrote.
“‘The family dentist has not been in our waiting rooms in many years.
I am not sure when I will be able see you again.'”
I was furious.
I took the letter home and filed a complaint with the Tel hospital, the Israeli government and the Israeli police.