When I was a youngster, I lived in a small village with one dentist.
Problem was the dentist was an alcoholic.

I needed a tooth pulled....likely a baby tooth. My father made the arrangements. It involved finding the dentist and buying him a pint of rum to straighten him up. I recall seeing him take a few big swallows from the bottle before I say on his chair. After the tooth was pulled, I was asked to wait in the adjoining room....as my father paid for the tooth removal.In the waiting area, something I had in my hands fell to the floor. I reached down to pick it up near a chair. As I bent over, I saw five or six teeth under the chair, that were obviously removed from the mouth of other patients. The memory stayed with me.