Let’s leave it at that for now.
A bit ago I told y’all about my misadventures at the eye doctor’s office yes? Well… the fun didn’t stop there… no indeed… I had myself a good old fashioned wacky time at the Dentist’s office as well!
First off, the office was hidden. As in, no sign, no address.
Secondly, the office was tiny. Smaller than my parent’s house in the 1985 (before the remodel)… you know, where there are two tiny bedrooms (big enough for a skinny person and a king sized bed but nothing else) a living room the size of a modern day cubicle and a kitchen/dinning room that could double as either… but not easily as both. In other words… tiny and cramped and maybe at this point my radar should have been screaming but it had been a few years since I last saw a dentist and now that I actually have dental insurance, I figured I would stick it out.
How bad could it be?
I gave my insurance card to the nice little lady behind the desk and sat don in the one and only chair. The waiting room was about ten feet by three feet… it was her desk, my chair, and a fish tank with no fish in it. Colorful plants, yes. Bubbles, yes. No fish.
I filled out the paperwork and then they called me back. Let me point out here that I was a good 20 minutes early and so after filling out the paperwork and waiting, I was shown to a dental chair just about on the dot of when my appointment was supposed to start.
I climbed up in the chair, crossed my ankles, and waited.
And waited and waited and waited.
For Forty-Five minutes, I waited.
Forty-Five long boring silent no contact with anyone minutes.
Eventually I went to see what had become of the rest of the world. I was assured “he” would be in soon.
Back to the chair. Another ten minutes.
Enter Mr. H.
Mr. H: Hello!
Mr. H: Why are you here today?
Me: I need a cleaning, haven’t seen a dentist in at least three years, maybe longer.
Mr. H: Any pain?
Mr H. Any complaints?
Mr H: Then why are you here?
This went on for a bit. Eventually I convinced him to clean my teeth.
Which he didn’t really do. He did rinse them with water, poke them with a plaque remover, look at them all very carefully, and then disappeared.
He was back in a few minutes, leaned my chair back, and then (without the benefit of a napkin, paper towel of one of those bibs you expect to get, proceeded to spray, suction, and scrape away for a while.
I proceeded to gag, spit, cough, cringe, and occasionally whimper. Then there was more gagging.
After a bit of this Mr. H (who I guess doubles as both the dentist and the hygienist) told me I was fine. No cavities, but I should brush more often. Then, leaving the chair reclined and me gasping for breath, he disappeared.
I waited. I waited some more.
Ten minutes later I poked my head out of the cubicle… Mr. H was at the end of the hallway.
Oh, he said noticing me, are you leaving now?
No, I replied, I was waiting for you.
Mr. H: (confused) For what?
Me: Is that it?
Mr H: Did you want something else?
I collected my stuff, woke up the receptionist, watched her spend another ten minutes looking for my insurance card “Are you sure I didn’t give it back to you already?” and eventually left.
My teeth did not feel clean.
What a singularly awful dental experience! I cannot begin to describe my severe lack of faith in Mr. H’s ability to diagnose anything regarding good oral hygiene. I am tempted to contact the insurance company and tell them that visit shouldn’t count, that I want a new dentist, and that I want an actual clean feeling on my teeth next time.
Did I mention he was missing three of his front teeth?