The lure of the deal got to me. It was one of those Groupon or Living Social deals that popped up in my computer’s mailbox; a complete cleaning with x-rays at Sheffield Square Dental Care, a nearby dentist’s office — ONLY$49!

Of course, I reminded myself, they would try to sell me some other service, maybe whitening or a screening for a rare but nasty gum disease, but when I considered how long it had been since I had my teeth cleaned and how far away MY dentist was, the dentist I had been going to for 40 years and who had possibly retired since I had last seen him, the decision to buy the coupon wasn’t hard.

When I called for an appointment, I informed the receptionist that I had a Living Social coupon for a cleaning. Surprisingly, she didn’t look through her book for an undesirable slot like Friday at 4:00. She offered an opening for the next day and asked me to bring my coupon in. She told me to park in the lot next to the office and said that they would validate my parking.

When I arrived at the scheduled time, there was some activity in the suite, in different examining rooms, but no one else in the waiting room. New patient forms were filled out easily. The receptionist introduced herself by name and gave me a voucher for the parking attendant before I even had the chance to ask her. After only a few minutes, I was led to an ultra modern partitioned space where the radio was dialed in to XRT, probably what I had playing on my car radio en route, and I settled into the chair.

The X-ray specialist scuttled in, wearing a somewhat juvenile printed smock, cum nurse at a children’s hospital, and a broad smile. She draped the weighted, x-ray repellent apron over me, and we discussed the best way to proceed with x-rays. “Please do the ones in the back quickly,” I warned her. “I have a tendency to gag.”

X-rays accomplished, the hygienist came in and lowered the chair. She introduced herself as Meghan then handed me a pair of sunglasses. Before I could ask “What are these for?” she explained that they should make me more comfortable under the overhead light which would be beamed on my face during most of my visit. “Oh,” I said, securing them around my head. “I thought they were to make me look cool.”

She took photos of my teeth with some mini high tech camera attached to a Waterpik type of device and projected the images on a screen in front of me. She talked about options for whitening, should I want to look into them later, and pointed out some cracks in teeth where I had very old fillings. Then she began the cleaning using some sort of sonic device, not the sharp, hair-thin metal pick I had been used to. If there was a lot of blood, I didn’t notice it. Even her post-cleaning lecture to floss more often was gentle.

The dentist came in for a short visit. With an easy manner, he asked me, “Do you like to be called Deborah, Deb, or Debbie?” It’s a simple enough introduction although my cynical side associated it with salesman-like positioning. The comment invoked an expectation of an ongoing relationship even though I just came in for a cleaning. When I thought about it, though, I decided I liked his confidence. So what if he treated me like I was already a patient? Obviously, he thought highly of his techniques and the professionalism of his staff. He answered my questions about possible problem teeth and described his approach to remedies. He had his staff print me price guidelines for different kinds of services I might be interested in without pushing me to make an appointment before I left the office.

So, the offer was genuine. I got a complete cleaning and x-rays for only $49. I also got excellent counseling on long-ignored health issues and information that could help me make other decisions. I just discovered a conveniently located dentist I could trust.

It’s so nice when you finally do something you had been putting off and get to experience that it was no big deal, that there was no good reason to put it off. Sometimes, it even turns out to be a pleasant surprise. Receiving pain-free dentistry and a price schedule, not a scare schedule, for future work is no small thing.