Dentista Sna Miche Le Serino: My Unfiltered Story

The first time I walked into Dentista Sna Miche Le Serino, the air smelled like antiseptic and something faintly sweet, like vanilla. Not the sterile, cold vibe I expected. The receptionist didn’t flash a plastic smile; she just nodded, handed me a clipboard, and said, “Fill this out. Doc’s running five minutes behind.” No apologies, no fluff. I liked that.

The waiting room was small, but the chairs were real leather, not the usual vinyl that sticks to your legs. A framed quote on the wall caught my eye: *“The mouth is the mirror of the body.”* Turns out, it’s from some old-school dental philosopher, Hippocrates. Fancy, but it stuck with me. When the dentist called my name, I half-expected some guy in a lab coat with a god complex. Instead, Dr. Serino shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, “What’s bothering you?” Direct. No small talk about the weather.

The exam chair was surprisingly comfortable. No creaking, no weird noises. The tools laid out on the tray gleamed under the light—no rust, no dull edges. Dr. Serino explained everything before he did it. “This is the explorer. It’s for checking cavities. You’ll feel pressure, not pain.” And he was right. No surprises. That’s rare. Most dentists just dive in like they’re defusing a bomb.

Then came the X-rays. The machine was sleek, not one of those bulky things that look like they belong in a 1950s sci-fi flick. The tech, Maria, guided me through it. “Bite here. Don’t move. Done.” Three seconds later, the images popped up on a screen beside me. Dr. Serino pointed at a shadow near my molar. “See this? That’s an old filling starting to crack. We can fix it now, or you can wait until it hurts.” No fear-mongering, no upselling. Just facts.

The procedure itself was smooth. The numbing shot pinched for a second, then nothing. Dr. Serino worked fast, but not rushed. He kept checking in: “You good?” “Still numb?” “Need a break?” I’ve had dentists who treat your mouth like a garage they’re fixing a car in. Not here. It felt… collaborative.

Afterward, Maria handed me a sheet with aftercare instructions. No generic pamphlet. It had my name on it, specific to my procedure. “Avoid hot drinks for 24 hours. If the swelling doesn’t go down in three days, call us.” Simple. Clear. No “maybes” or “mights.”

I left with a follow-up appointment already booked. No chasing them down for a recall. They just did it. And when I got home, there was a text: “Hi [My Name], here’s a reminder about your aftercare. Let us know if you need anything.” No emojis, no “Hope you’re doing great!” Just useful info.

Dr. Serino once said in an interview, *“Dentistry isn’t about teeth. It’s about people.”* That’s what stuck with me. Not the drill, not the bill, but the way they treated me like a person, not a patient. And isn’t that what we all want?