Return of Feeling
Finals are finally over, I've done really well, and no school 'til August 22. I'm slowly unwinding. I really needed the summer break, after 2 semesters one after the other and no time to catch my breath in between.
One of my best friends came from Belgrade. She just quit working for the American Chamber of Commerce and is here for just 2 weeks while her American/English boyfriend is trying to use his ten Serbian sentences to survive over there. We hung out at her parent's house in OKC and flew kites at Hefner lake. I haven't flown a kite in a long time. The wind was absolutely perfect. I could unwind the string all the way and just sit in the grass while my shark-shaped kite did its thing.
That was all nice, yes. But, I am here to write about the visit I made to the the dentist today. My very first cavity filling experience in America.
My right upper sixth has been hurting for about a month. Due to lack of funds I haven't seen a dentist for over 2 years. I had my teeth last fixed in Belgrade and the dentist filled in 7 cavities in 2 visits. I refused Lidocaine shots both times and he pronounced me crazy. That was before Nursing school. ('Cafe Europa' by Slavenka Drakulic describes Serbs' relationship with their teeth. Despite my best efforts I am yet to develop a flossing habit. I brush at least trice a day but can't get myself to floss)
FF to May 2005. I'm pretty much broke. I have no health insurance. My tooth has been hurting for a while and it's really starting to annoy me. I called Mia who works at the local dental hygiene clinic and she recommended this cheap dentist in North Tulsa. They charge sliding scale. For those who don't know North Tulsa is primarily poor black hood with Crips and Bloods roaming around. I give the office a call this morning at 11 and I told a very nice sounding lady I had a toothache and she said I could come in at 1pm today.
The drive took about 20 minutes. The area was very poor, with faded street signs, broken office signs, streets cracked and dirty, bars on windows everywhere. So I pull into the parking lot, locate the door, and enter...
...The most depressing waiting room I've ever seen. "No personal checks!" I signed in (there were only 3 signatures in there for that day); the ill-dressed lady handed me the application form and I sat next to the 75-gallon aquarium. I counted 13 fish, one blind, and other with a dime size round sore on its side close to its head. The floor of the aquarium must have not been cleaned in quite some time. The sore fish swam at the 45 degree angle.
The room itself was a sight. It was filled with dusty fake plants, while the only live plant on the chipped coffee table was ill-maintained with yellowing and browning leaves. Unvacuumed floor with specks of dirt scattered about. The TV in the corner was turned off and its screen looked as if someone cleaned it with the wet cloth half-assedly, leaving the wet dust to dry in streaks across the glass. A boring fly zoomed around the room. All the furniture was dingy and mismatched. While I waited, some overweight dude came in (reminded me of Silent Bob) and asked that the dentist put a wisdom tooth back into his jaw. I shook my head in disbelief, but the guy actually repeated it, and the secretary seemed to be fine with that.
I combated an urge to run out of the waiting room, realizing that this experience is valuable. Within five minutes I was ushered into the x-ray room by a technician lady who had an earring hanging off a keratenous scar on her left ear. She started talking. I didn't understand her and asked her to repeat what she said. "Oh, I'm just talking to myself," she responded. When she took the x-ray she sent me back to the depressing waiting room where I stared at the aquarium some more, and some time later she took me to the...
...Most depressing Dentist's office I've ever seen. This office beat even Serbia's communist run poor public health clinic in New Belgrade. The equipment was very, very old, I'd guess at least 30-40 years old. The chair was ripped. The paint on the machine was chipping and metal was corroded. The little round lavatory wasn't working. Someone's long dark hair was hanging off it. The walls were dirty and moldy. The highly placed window in front of the chair had bars on it, with a yellow and black painting of leafless trees and fields was underneath. Behind me was a gray cabinet with peeling paint also. A fly again. I am not sure if it was the same one from the waiting room or a different one. I was hoping it was the same one.
DDS enters. Denzel Washington look-alike but not nearly as good looking. Asks me a few questions, I tell him where it hurts. He looks at my tooth and declares that my filling is about to fall out. He stuck that sharp instrument into the cavity and that hurt bad. Then he looked at my lower jaw and said, "You've got a big cavity down here." He stuck the tip of the instrument into it. I could actually feel the tip of it sinking into my tooth. "This doesn't hurt?!" It didn't. He asked me if I wanted that fixed. I found that question suprefluous. Of course I wanted it fixed. I wanted everything fixed. Today. He said he usually doesn't do 2 teeth at once because it's too much for most people. I suppose it is in the country where most people drink water that contains Fluor, floss, and visit regularly. But, he was talking to someone who had her teeth with tripod-shaped roots extracted without any pain meds. After I re-confirmed that I wanted it all fixed, he signaled the tech to prepare the stuff.
She pulled out a syringe. I looked at it sort of scared. I hate being stuck, and I have fear of needles. That is why I've endured all that tooth repair pain/extraction previously. It took me a month to talk myself into giving blood one time. I almost passed out when my blood had to be taken. I told her I wasn't sure if I wanted the pain relief. Then, I thought about it and Nursing thinking kicked into gear. I realized that I really didn't want to hurt today. And I also knew that if I didn't take pain relief, the procedure would have to last longer because the dentist usually has to stop and give me a break as I regain my senses and prepare for more pain. So I took a deep breath and told her I want the shot after all. The dentist returned, and gave me an absolutely painless shot, then put on gloves and a face mask.
He fixed them both. I gagged occasionally on the liquid. The tech held some awful suction that was too strong and kept getting stuck to my mouth. The dentist kept making sure that I was ok and wasn't hurting. He was actually all right. Black filling on top, white on bottom (that took some discussion, too - I didn't want the dark one on the bottom partly because of vanity, partly because of more Mercury in my mouth. All other fillings in my mouth are white). I went to the front, and the lady told me it was $50. I only had $25 in my wallet. I handed that to her and told her I could pay the rest with a credit card.
-"We don't accept credit cards."
-"What do you accept?"
-"Cash."
-"..."
-"Can you write a personal check?"
-"I'm sorry I don't have checks on me."
Her face went sour: "How do you plan to take care of the rest $25?"
-"I'll send you money, I promise."
She gave me "the look": "Sure."
I walked out of there, ashamed, as fast as I could. At home, I wrote the check, and it's in the mail already, with a big 'Thank you' note . I imagine they will be surprised that I paid at all. I imagine they often don't see the money.
The feeling is returning to my cheek. I ate some yogurt earlier and haven't felt that I had yogurt drool on the side of my face. I moved my tongue and pricked it with the pen to see what areas were numb. When I stuck it out, instead going straight it went to the side, but it felt like it went straight.. so I played with that for a while. Now, I'm just sitting here.. perhaps I'll go for a walk by the river later..
One of my best friends came from Belgrade. She just quit working for the American Chamber of Commerce and is here for just 2 weeks while her American/English boyfriend is trying to use his ten Serbian sentences to survive over there. We hung out at her parent's house in OKC and flew kites at Hefner lake. I haven't flown a kite in a long time. The wind was absolutely perfect. I could unwind the string all the way and just sit in the grass while my shark-shaped kite did its thing.
That was all nice, yes. But, I am here to write about the visit I made to the the dentist today. My very first cavity filling experience in America.
My right upper sixth has been hurting for about a month. Due to lack of funds I haven't seen a dentist for over 2 years. I had my teeth last fixed in Belgrade and the dentist filled in 7 cavities in 2 visits. I refused Lidocaine shots both times and he pronounced me crazy. That was before Nursing school. ('Cafe Europa' by Slavenka Drakulic describes Serbs' relationship with their teeth. Despite my best efforts I am yet to develop a flossing habit. I brush at least trice a day but can't get myself to floss)
FF to May 2005. I'm pretty much broke. I have no health insurance. My tooth has been hurting for a while and it's really starting to annoy me. I called Mia who works at the local dental hygiene clinic and she recommended this cheap dentist in North Tulsa. They charge sliding scale. For those who don't know North Tulsa is primarily poor black hood with Crips and Bloods roaming around. I give the office a call this morning at 11 and I told a very nice sounding lady I had a toothache and she said I could come in at 1pm today.
The drive took about 20 minutes. The area was very poor, with faded street signs, broken office signs, streets cracked and dirty, bars on windows everywhere. So I pull into the parking lot, locate the door, and enter...
...The most depressing waiting room I've ever seen. "No personal checks!" I signed in (there were only 3 signatures in there for that day); the ill-dressed lady handed me the application form and I sat next to the 75-gallon aquarium. I counted 13 fish, one blind, and other with a dime size round sore on its side close to its head. The floor of the aquarium must have not been cleaned in quite some time. The sore fish swam at the 45 degree angle.
The room itself was a sight. It was filled with dusty fake plants, while the only live plant on the chipped coffee table was ill-maintained with yellowing and browning leaves. Unvacuumed floor with specks of dirt scattered about. The TV in the corner was turned off and its screen looked as if someone cleaned it with the wet cloth half-assedly, leaving the wet dust to dry in streaks across the glass. A boring fly zoomed around the room. All the furniture was dingy and mismatched. While I waited, some overweight dude came in (reminded me of Silent Bob) and asked that the dentist put a wisdom tooth back into his jaw. I shook my head in disbelief, but the guy actually repeated it, and the secretary seemed to be fine with that.
I combated an urge to run out of the waiting room, realizing that this experience is valuable. Within five minutes I was ushered into the x-ray room by a technician lady who had an earring hanging off a keratenous scar on her left ear. She started talking. I didn't understand her and asked her to repeat what she said. "Oh, I'm just talking to myself," she responded. When she took the x-ray she sent me back to the depressing waiting room where I stared at the aquarium some more, and some time later she took me to the...
...Most depressing Dentist's office I've ever seen. This office beat even Serbia's communist run poor public health clinic in New Belgrade. The equipment was very, very old, I'd guess at least 30-40 years old. The chair was ripped. The paint on the machine was chipping and metal was corroded. The little round lavatory wasn't working. Someone's long dark hair was hanging off it. The walls were dirty and moldy. The highly placed window in front of the chair had bars on it, with a yellow and black painting of leafless trees and fields was underneath. Behind me was a gray cabinet with peeling paint also. A fly again. I am not sure if it was the same one from the waiting room or a different one. I was hoping it was the same one.
DDS enters. Denzel Washington look-alike but not nearly as good looking. Asks me a few questions, I tell him where it hurts. He looks at my tooth and declares that my filling is about to fall out. He stuck that sharp instrument into the cavity and that hurt bad. Then he looked at my lower jaw and said, "You've got a big cavity down here." He stuck the tip of the instrument into it. I could actually feel the tip of it sinking into my tooth. "This doesn't hurt?!" It didn't. He asked me if I wanted that fixed. I found that question suprefluous. Of course I wanted it fixed. I wanted everything fixed. Today. He said he usually doesn't do 2 teeth at once because it's too much for most people. I suppose it is in the country where most people drink water that contains Fluor, floss, and visit regularly. But, he was talking to someone who had her teeth with tripod-shaped roots extracted without any pain meds. After I re-confirmed that I wanted it all fixed, he signaled the tech to prepare the stuff.
She pulled out a syringe. I looked at it sort of scared. I hate being stuck, and I have fear of needles. That is why I've endured all that tooth repair pain/extraction previously. It took me a month to talk myself into giving blood one time. I almost passed out when my blood had to be taken. I told her I wasn't sure if I wanted the pain relief. Then, I thought about it and Nursing thinking kicked into gear. I realized that I really didn't want to hurt today. And I also knew that if I didn't take pain relief, the procedure would have to last longer because the dentist usually has to stop and give me a break as I regain my senses and prepare for more pain. So I took a deep breath and told her I want the shot after all. The dentist returned, and gave me an absolutely painless shot, then put on gloves and a face mask.
He fixed them both. I gagged occasionally on the liquid. The tech held some awful suction that was too strong and kept getting stuck to my mouth. The dentist kept making sure that I was ok and wasn't hurting. He was actually all right. Black filling on top, white on bottom (that took some discussion, too - I didn't want the dark one on the bottom partly because of vanity, partly because of more Mercury in my mouth. All other fillings in my mouth are white). I went to the front, and the lady told me it was $50. I only had $25 in my wallet. I handed that to her and told her I could pay the rest with a credit card.
-"We don't accept credit cards."
-"What do you accept?"
-"Cash."
-"..."
-"Can you write a personal check?"
-"I'm sorry I don't have checks on me."
Her face went sour: "How do you plan to take care of the rest $25?"
-"I'll send you money, I promise."
She gave me "the look": "Sure."
I walked out of there, ashamed, as fast as I could. At home, I wrote the check, and it's in the mail already, with a big 'Thank you' note . I imagine they will be surprised that I paid at all. I imagine they often don't see the money.
The feeling is returning to my cheek. I ate some yogurt earlier and haven't felt that I had yogurt drool on the side of my face. I moved my tongue and pricked it with the pen to see what areas were numb. When I stuck it out, instead going straight it went to the side, but it felt like it went straight.. so I played with that for a while. Now, I'm just sitting here.. perhaps I'll go for a walk by the river later..