I fired my dentist.
I have never in my life before fired a provider…and in the last three weeks I have fired three…though two don’t know about it (I just won’t reschedule appointments and I’m sure I’ll fall through the cracks with no one the wiser.)
It’s kind of liberating. I’m not saying I know better. I absolutely do not. But it is nice to feel like I’m taking control of my health (including my stupid teeth).
The story:
I work full time. Yeah, I know, boo hoo…so does most of America…but I have a really hard time getting appointments during the work week without taking time off. I don’t like to miss work so I try to schedule my appointments with minimal disruption.
About five weeks ago, I had to cancel an appointment at the end of the day because I was absolutely slammed at work. I knew at 9 am that I wouldn’t be able to leave at three, so I called to reschedule. I got a disapproving, ‘Well…now we’ll have a hygienist getting paid to sit here for half an hour with nothing to do.’
I have to admit at that point, I was annoyed. I get that it is difficult to cancel at short notice. I get that it is inconvenient. What I want to know is how much this hygienist gets paid, that ½ an hour is such a hit to the budget.
Anyway, I made my appointment for 0730 in the morning instead. That way I wouldn’t have to miss much work, could be the first one in and out and didn’t have to leave work in the middle of the day. On the day I get there at 0725…all is good, except no one is in the office and the door is locked.
Fun times, right?
No, big. I’m not concerned. I know that people are late some times. I get that.
At thirty-five past, I’m calling the office though…not surprised that no one answers. It’s then I see the – I don’t know what she was. She worked at the office though I have no idea in what capacity. I would say she was the receptionist except she didn’t know how to turn on the computer (I am not joking)…this lady – whoever she was – came up and tried the door. She doesn’t acknowledge me, doesn’t say hi or look at me or ask me politely to move out of the way when she goes to open the door that she would have had to knock me over to get through if it wasn’t LOCKED…
(Oh, thought I was over it. Apparently am not.)
Two minutes later the dentist shows up. I don’t know what kind of dentist doesn’t enter their own office through the back door…but that is not the issue here. She doesn’t acknowledge me either.
This is not really a problem. I am used to being ignored. It’s ok…I move out of the way and they both go in before me. I catch the door, a little annoyed, somewhat bemused and follow them in.
Course, they’ve disappeared to the back. I listen to them turn on the lights and click on machines, turn on water and suction things…
Someone says from the back, ‘You the seven thirty?’
I answer, ‘yes,’ and struggle not to look at my watch (but fail, I can’t help myself…by this time it is quarter to eight.) ‘Was I wrong about the time?’
‘No,’ is the answer.
Huh.
They have me come back, sit me in a chair. Oh, good…finally getting this over with, I’m thinking.
Wrong.
They now spend about three minutes discussing over my head how the dentist is still ill. Her husband apparently woke up in a pool of sweat the night before and was feeling much better now. She assures the receptionist (?) that she would not be taking her mask off all day.
All the while apparently having forgotten I was there.
I almost got up at that point to walk out.
I don’t know why I didn’t. Probably because I was already late for work and would have had to park in the outer unders (different than the lower forties) and take the shuttle at this point anyway, so why not just get it over with?
Then…THEN!..(Most people at this point as I tell this story are already appalled. Maybe because I usually don’t go off like this on any subject…or maybe because I haven’t stopped to breathe while telling it and my face is turning purple. But there is more.) She snaps on her gloves and sais, ‘so I’m going to have to numb you up on that right side.’
WHAT!??
I did jump out of the chair at that point.
Oh, did I tell you that I came in for a routine, run of the mill, boring, scraping my teeth and telling me I need to floss more three month cleaning?
No filling.
No drilling.
No numbing.
No, no, no I don’t think so dentist lady.
‘Oh?’ she says, looking confused. Then she goes off to look at my chart.
DO YOU THINK YOU MIGHT HAVE LOOKED AT MY CHART BEFORE DECIDING TO PUT NEEDLES IN MY MOUTH TO NUMB IT BEFORE YOU DRILL!!!??
You would think I was done at that point. I should have walked out then.
No, I didn’t because I’m an idiot. Instead I followed her as she moved me to another chair and explained that her receptionist?? had put 3mo in my appoint description. She thought it was funny. In her language, she explained, 3mo was something to do with the third molar, never mind that to the rest of the English speaking world 3mo means three months!!!
Oh, the hilarity.
I should mention that I have mild anxiety when it comes to the dentist. It wasn’t funny. I’m thinking it was negligent, and down right wrong.
Oh, but I stay, because I am an idiot. I listen to her make small talk and talk over me, yI listened to her yell over me out to the receptionist?? that her son could absolutely not ride his long board to school, I stayed and smiled tersely as she insisted on making a follow up appointment.
Then I left…seething and uncomfortable.
I waited for a few days. Don’t know why. I wanted to calm down, I wanted to talk to someone and every time I called I got the answering machine…so I finally broke down and left a message cancelling my appointment and the one for the boys that I took the day off for later in the month. I left my number, but didn’t think anyone would call me back. Thought that was it.
It wasn’t.
The receptionist (not the same one this time, but the one from before that told me that the hygienist would be sitting around earning her mega bucks for half an hour while I wasn’t there) called a few days after that. She wanted to know what had gone on. I told her. (In a very polite and civilized, rational manner…I so wish someone had been around to hear it.) I didn’t even go into the her being late or sick or shouting over me with her sharp things in my mouth. I just talked about the ‘I’m going to have to numb you up on that right side’ thing. Told her I could not responsibly ever go back to a dentist, or bring my children to a dentist who would numb someone without looking at their chart. That I was appaled and wondered what would have happened and how far it would have gone if I didn’t speak English very well or if I was hard of hearing or an old biddy who got confused (no comments, please.) What was her reply?
‘Well, everyone makes mistakes. We’re all human.’
Yeah. I’m not lying.
That is what she said.
Then she told me not to burn bridges.
So I fired my dentist, happily and gratefully and with a lot of satisfaction. I wasn’t going to post anything on those healthgrade websites, but I will now. Oh, yes I will. I am not only burning bridges, I am going to stand by gleefully with marshmallows and chocolate…mmm chocolate…and watch them burn.
Xb.
undeadpollyanna 