So one day a couple of weeks ago I called the clinic nearest me to make an appointment.
Red flag #1, the phone is answered by a woman saying, "Hello?" "Is this the dentist?" I asked. (Brilliant question, right?) I then set an appointment for "...next Friday."
Red Flag #2: She doesn't ask how to spell my name, and she doesn't take my number. When I call to confirm she (the dentist? office assistant? receptionist? lady?) changed the appointment from 9am to 10am because she was coming from Bakersfield.
Red Flag #3: I roll into the parking lot and it's a strip mall.
Red Flag #4: The office is locked, no one is there.
Red Flag #5: A small woman walks up and unlocks the door, telling me she's just arriving, and shuts the door in my face.
Red Flag #6: When I follow her in she tells me I can sit and wait. She bustles around turning on lights, and then turns the TV in the waiting room on. Normally I would assume this is for my benefit, but the whole time she's choosing the channel she is holding open a door with her back, which completely blocks my view. By the sound of it she eventually settles on a crime-recreation show on some low budge network. I pull out my book.
Red Flag #7: She goes into the exam room, which is partitioned off with a fake wall and looks out onto the parking lot, and immediately turns on another TV. The View is on. What is the logic here? Who is expected to be watching these two televisions. If I weren't here would she have both on anyway? Do the stoic interviews and police sirens of the crime show add something special to The View. She still hasn't acknowledged me further. I pick up the remote and turn off the TV in waiting area. It's distracting me from my book (The Kid by Dan Savage).
Red Flag #8: When she finally gives me paperwork she uses no courtesies in her speech. "Here I'm gonna have you fill this out." It takes me a moment to realize she's speaking to me; I'm immersed in my book, and she doesn't address or even look me in the eye. At this point I'm really looking forward to having her root around in my mouth. Fabulous. But I'm resolved not to waste my $35.
Red Flag #9: Once in the chair the exam continues in a similar vein. My dentist (wtf is her name anyway?) shoves a small square of cardboard in my mouth and tells me to bite down for the x-ray. The cardboard is wedged down in such a way that I can't close my mouth. I'm not sure what to do. "You're not biting down all the way," she says from around another wall. "I can't" I slur over the thing in my mouth. As she's fixing it she chuckles, "You gotta gag reflex, huh?" What? Um, yes? I gag on things sometimes, but that's irrelevant because I wasn't just now. I just couldn't close my mouth, and I didn't know how to fix the thing. Not once throughout the entire exam does she ever warning me she's about to stick her fingers in my mouth. She prefers a sneakier approach, bustling around the room and then flying in unexpectedly.
Red Flag #10: Looking over my x-rays she makes a number of cryptic and worrying statements:
"You gotta big cavity in the back. You gotta white fill?" Is this a question or a statement? Is she talking about something in the past? I shrug.
"Your wisdom teeth trying to come through." I had all four wisdom teeth out when I was 17.
"Ooh. Root canal." Okay, so you're pointing out the dental work I've already had... Yes, that's true.
"You got an infection, it coming through you're nasal cavity." What? Is there something I can do for this?
"Root canal." Wait, another one? No meds first, just straight to ripping out the roots of my teeth? Fucking fabulous. You wanna just dig in right now?
As she shoves a mirror into my hands: "Here! The 8 and 9!" As if I'm an idiot for not knowing my teeth by number. Wouldn't I have an inkling of that if I had an infection?
Red Flag #11: As she lays me back to begin the cleaning I'm wondering if I should just go right now. But I sort of feel like it's been so long since my last cleaning that I really need to see this through. As we begin I try to smooth things over and ask her how she long she's been a dentist. "Uuuuh, 15 years." "Do you like it?" I ask, trying to be friendly now that she has me in a position of weakness. My dentist answered by ranting about Obama-care, and how she's not going to advise her college-bound son to go into it, implying that it no longer pays. Lovely, because I totally want someone who's concerned only about their paycheck cleaning my teeth. No wonder she needed to sell Groupons.
Red Flag #12: During the cleaning she flicks toothpaste onto my face, and when I start she asks me what's wrong like I'm crazy. Every time someone passes by she pauses to watch them. I stare upside down through her goggles at her eyes as they follow each person and wonder if she thinks they're coming in. Because I know for sure they're not. She sticks the suction hose to the inside of my cheek and leaves it there while she goes to get something. It dries my mouth out and I start to choke. Then she abruptly sits me up. "You gotta cavity. Big one," she says, thrusting the mirror back into my hands. She indicates a molar at the back. I'm not surprised, I figured as much.
As she hustles me out of the office an hour since I came in nothing surprises me; my red flags have all been raised and I have no excuse for feeling abused. I could've left at any time. She offers me copies of my x-rays, but when I tell her that'd be nice she says, "It's gonna be $25. It costs money you know." Great, I'll keep that in mind. And I certainly won't be back.
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