Dentist

I had a Seinfeldish experience today. Even as I type my upper lip is still numb but I wanted to get this down while the pain was still fresh in my memory. Actually there wasn't that much pain. Just the pinch of the novocaine, which I hate but always get because I figure the potential pain from having an exposed nerve drilled is probably worse.

So anyway, I had this tiny cavity and my dentist and his lovely assistant, whom I have known and trusted my enamel with for years, were working me over. That little gold drill was going "zzzZZZZZZ!!!!!" and water was spraying all over my face...you know the drill (no pun intended.) Let's just say that even though I had plenty of novocaine, I felt tense. My sweaty palms squeezed the tissue they gave me and my ankles were frozen into a prepare-to-flee position. There is the usual banter going on between Dr. Dentist and Ms. Assistant, which is light and pleasant. Then, out of nowhere, some random person pops her head in the room and starts blathering on about a speeding ticket she received, how many points were going on her record, what fine she had to pay, blah blah blah. She wouldn't shut the hell up and she had nothing whatsoever to do with the procedure going on inside my mouth.

I felt tense. More tense. Who are you and what are you doing in this room while I'm having this thing done to my gums and teeth and I'm sure any second now I'm going to jump out of this chair when the drill hits my nerve because this time I'm almost positive the dentist didn't give me enough novocaine....

Then Miss Invade-the-Patient's-Privacy-Blabbermouth left. I felt a brief respite. Until she returned two seconds later to keep us posted about her traffic ticket problems. Blah Blah Blah!!! I could hardly believe it. I mean where did she think she was anyway? The grocery store check-out line?

My tenseness at this point must have become pretty obvious. Dr. Dentist lifted the drill and asked in his gentle concerned manner, "Are you OK?"

I mumbled forcefully, my mouth, stuffed with cotton and feeling the size of a grapefruit, and pointed at the interloper: "Whaf's fee booing here?"

The three of them looked at me. "What? Who?"

"Fur!!" I exclaimed, pointing again at the random stranger. "Fuzz fee meed to pee here?"

Dr. Dentist realized the problem and told her to get lost. "Sorry about that," he said. "She's a temp." I tried to explain (again, not very coherently with my mouth in its current state) that I'm not really interested in her personal life. He said some people like having the banter because it soothes them. I said I didn't mind HIS banter or his assistant's banter while they worked. I know them. I like them. Their banter interests me. But the banter of a random stranger in the room when I'm feeling, well, vulnerable is a good word, is not welcome. I mean I realize the rooms are only semi-private with openings in one wall so the dentist can step in and out without the inconvenience of opening a door, but really folks. Isn't there some tiny expectation of privacy, that only the people that really need to see you squirm are the only ones in there?

Dr. Dentist said he understands. I'm being drilled, and trying to get to "that place" where I feel comfortable, and this stranger comes in and wrecks it. EXACTLY! Then he said she's temped for them a few times and they liked her because she was so friendly with staff, but the problem was, she's so friendly with the staff! (After all, she was telling them, not me, about her traffic ticket woes.)

I hate confrontation. Truth be told, my heart was pounding, what with the drill on top of the confrontation. I basically told someone to her face that she was annoying me and to get the hell out. Plus it wasn't my job to tell her to get the hell out, was it? But if it was your office and your employee was irritating the hell out of a long-standing patient whose business also includes that of her husband and four kids, wouldn't you want to know? He actually did seem appreciative that I spoke up.

Maybe it's just me, but lots of doctor's offices seem to need a course in basic courtesy. There are the ones that schedule three and four appointments at the same time (so the good doctor doesn't have to wait...but what about the patient? You know, the one who's paying?) And lately everybody wants to call me "Mom" if it's an appointment involving my kids. Even if my kid is on the other side of the room playing a video game and I come to the desk with an insurance question, it's "What kind of insurance do you have Mom?" I've told people in the orthodontist office, the pediatrician's office and the ophthalmologist's office "Please don't call me 'Mom'". Admittedly it's usually the technician or the nurse or some other paraprofessional. But sometimes it's the doctor himself (I've never had a female doctor address me as 'Mom'), and one time one of them actually said "Well what should I call you?"

Well Duh!! I know this is hard Dr. Dufus, but look down. You have the chart in front of you. You can call me Julie, or you can call me Mrs. (insert my last name here). But don't call me 'Mom'. I know I have a lot of kids but I'm pretty sure you're not one of them.

The novocaine is wearing off now and surprisingly I don't have a pounding headache. Maybe that's because I vented off my tension right here, for your reading pleasure. Thanks. I feel better now.