The Dentist

The doctor (of dentistry) is straddling my legs and reaching up not unlike a car mechanic maneuvering under a vehicle suspended on a lift above him.

He's holding the xray card up behind my tooth as I, with multiple injections and a block holding my jaws agape, am unable to bite down as per usual procedure. 
This is the first time I've ever seen anyone in the dental profession stay in the room during an xray. His head is next to, hair brushing against, the xray 'eye'. 
This man does not give a fuck. 
I like him.
As it turns out this is his last month in practice. He's been operating out of the same office since 1976 he says and now he's going to retire. He obviously 'gets into' his work and he's the kind of dentist you want to get. He doesn't employee beautiful perfect looking assistants for people like me to come in and open their ugly mouths in front of. 
Also he's a trouble shooter. 
The Dentist before, wait, the one before the one before (all in the same weeks span) said I'd have to get a new crown in order to perform the root canal. This one says he can drill from behind the crown and seal it back up.
No problem. This is about a 600 savings. 
He could have just as easily said nothing. Like I said, I like the guy. But this isn't where it started. 
This latest dental adventure began the previous Thursday at Familia Dentistry. 
DO NOT GO THERE. 
Familia Dentistry is like a Jiffy Lube for your teeth. You're in n out and if they can get you to buy new wipers and a filter you get a big happy grin because they think you're a moron.
"Oh,is it? Oh,do I? Oh,okay..."

I chose the place because my teeth were hurting violently by this time and I happened to be driving by. The place was new. Once inside it looked like the drivers license facilities waiting room with just as classy of a clientele. 
There was a 600 lb woman I was hoping had come to beg them to remove her teeth.

 Being offered an appointment on the same day while the waiting room is full is a bad sign. Unless you're under the influence of a maddening tooth ache. I take the afteroon appointment.

Derelicts were everywhere including a local amateur comedian I know who just had to have an appointment the same time as me. He doesn't know I'm there so I sink down in the chair. I don't want to talk to him . I don't think he's funny. If he happens to read this, I do not think you are funny(I am helping you).
 I don't want him to talk about me. This isn't conceit or paranoia, there just is no way he's not going to be down to my old home club and not pass along his Travis sighting...
The problem is they're going to call my name. John Smith I am not.

I keep hoping he's called first and also every time they pop out of their door to call another name I think I can preempt them by cutting them off at Tr- (I know, I'm obsessing a little but I just really can't stand the thought of these mother fuckers at the club talking about me with all their uniformed opinions being traded, etc - gossip happens way more than it should - people will talk about anything. Yes, they are talking about you when you're gone. It's staggering the amount of gossip and mindless surmising and chattering that goes on but anyway....)

My name is loudly called by a Latina accented afro-american. It rolls off her tongue.
I march across the waiting room with make believe blinders and I'm escorted to partitioned 'room' 7

When the Dentist arrives I'm sure I'm not going to like this and then he speaks and I know.
He is from India (or Pakistan, I can't tell and I'm not apologizing) like, yesterday.

He is difficult to understand and I assume I am as well, if he cared about understanding what I'm saying which he clearly did not. I only wish he was as fluent in English as Apu at the Kwik-E-Mart.

Xrays are taken. He seems disappointed by my decision to take things slow. 
I'm going to think about it, I say. I'm handed an estimate of what they'll do and what they'll charge as well as the amount charged so far; $200.00 for xrays(several not a full set) and "extensive oral examination" which included about three minutes of his poking around and spewing some gibberish and taking note of missing teeth as though he'd made quite the discovery
 "Numba thurddy... missing!" 

After I say I'll probably start with the one cavity and go from there he comes back a minute later and abruptly examines my mouth again, motions from the assistant to hand me a mirror that has a broken handle and then he begins to explain, while I hold the mirror up to my mouth, that he's found another cavity. 
"Do you see?"
No, but I say yes just to get him out of there.

The entire time there is a kid on the other side of the wall screaming and crying. At one point the "doctor" says he will give him more medicine in order that it might not hurt. I take my paper and pain and leave.

I'll see what happens. Maybe the pain will go away. 
I pick up some mouth wash and I've also recently (three days prior) begun flossing diligently. a healthy smile is now top priority. I'll cure myself with expensive multi-targeting mouthwash and Sensodyne.

wait and see what happens over the weekend.

By Tuesday I'm still in denial. I decide that I should hit the mouthwash twice a day. I vigorously swish as instructed over the sink as I can't wait to release the liquid that is burning my mouth and tongue and watering my eyes. this isn't how normal people begin the day, I say to myself while looking at my reflection in a semi-polished sheet of aluminum bolted to the concrete block wall of the jail. The supreme obviousness of this statement is also noted.

This last dose of mouthwash releases a new and severe pain that I likened to jagged needles or fish hooks being repeatedly sunk and then yanked out of my gums. The entire right side of my mouth throbs in pain. Fuck that mouthwash.

I tell a coworker about the tooth thing, he offers a Vicodin. He is the third person to offer me a Vicodin. Everyone has Vicodin.  

I decline out of fear. Any non-prescribed prescriptions is a felony violation just to have on my person. With my brand of luck you don't gamble on the odds of a random piss test. No matter what the pain, you just don't.


I have an appointment with a different dentist in the morning.

The new dentist takes me back and, informally gives me a once over. He seems great, very informative and easy to understand. Then he tells me he's going to refer me to a 'specialist' who will test to see if I do in fact need a root canal and then that 'specialist' will perform the root canal and Dr Fucking-useless-to-me will perform the light work at a later date. 

I'm now up to  $275.00 billable to my insurance with an annual max benefit of $1,000.00 They pay about 50% of 'major' which is anything beyond a non-composite filling which, nobody does non-composite fillings anymore.So I'm wasting valuable and very limited actual work/pain relief money on these fucking clowns who have not an ounce of compassion for the pain I'm in.

I thank them and leave.

That night I take my little plastic cup to bunk as the only relief from pain is to sip some cool water and let it wash over the tooth and then repeat about every five minutes. Each time I try to absorb the pain as the water's relief wears off and it builds again. At some point I fall asleep and the cup spills in my bunk.

Thursday I call the dentist's office saying the specialist can't get me in until Monday and I need pain relief now. But not that Vicodin crap or Tylenol3 - something that works and isn't hard on my already fucked up stomach and liver.
She calls back and says he can offer nothing beyond the two. I'm supposed to believe that there are no other alternatives. Which I know is not the case but you can't just go suggesting opiates these days as the media hype has fucked up things for the average person. You get the ineffective junk and that's it. 

I call back a few hours later after many failed attempts to get an immediate appointment elsewhere and say, okay, I'll take the Vicodin scrip. She has to check. She calls back and says since I'm 'not really' a patient yet he can't write me a scrip. Bull-Fucking-Shit. Fucking Dateline NBC and cable news. Yes, I'm obviously an addict, dentist shopping for shitty Vicodin. I want to....

Next time: Part 2 
Rinse, spit, nipple.