A change in insurance carriers through the company forced me to look for a new dentist to be the caretaker of my pearly-whites. After 2 months of fervently searching, using a criteria that has very little to do with teeth, I chose a dentist who seemed most capable to do the job in an effective, professional manner.
I scheduled my dentist appointment for yesterday morning and I decided to get a cleaning, full-mouth x-ray and all of the other beautiful goodness that I was entitled to. I filled out about 10 forms and waivers and was ushered into what seemed like a second waiting room with two office chairs and a bench-like contraption. The dentist came into the room with a small cup of water that I assumed he brought as a drink for himself while we discussed my teeth. Instead, the dentist placed the cup on the bench and said “rinse.” “Rinse now??” “Yes.” This was a little odd that he’d have me rinse in the reception area, but I can embrace change, so I rinsed.
I was done rinsing and got up to spit, but he said “no…” and handed me an ancient makeshift cone contraption attached to a hose that led to nowhere–this is when I knew I made a bad choice. Suddenly I realized that I was sitting in the examination room, equipped with a heavy, old x-ray machine strapped to a loose ceiling tile, trash in the corner, and NO SINK or running water in sight!
He strapped a flashlight to his head, took out a dental scaler, reclined my chair and instructed me to “open up dem gums.” Without ever touching my teeth, he looked around my mouth for about 10 seconds, wrote some stuff down and immediately started to polish. Thirty seconds later he was done polishing every other tooth and said “all done– come back next week for us to replace those two fillings.”
“That was it?!”