I found him! I found The One!
I’m talking about my dentist.
I am so effing picky about my health care providers, people. SO PICKY. Aside from someone who is competent, I need someone who will listen and respond to all of my questions. And it is guaranteed that I will have a ton of questions. If you are wearing a white coat and are a practicing health care provider (so you Clinique ladies do not count), don’t even try to get away from me before I am done with my list of questions because that makes it a sure thing that I will never come back and see you again. So don’t cut me off, don’t act rushed, don’t seem annoyed. I’m sorry if I want to know what the hell you are doing to me, really, I apologize. But my question-list-lust must be sated. There’s just no getting around it.
So if I get a health care person that is up to par on that (is that the phrase? up to par? I don’t get golf), I will be loyal to them. But if I get that level of quality, and then on top of that, the person is super nice and friendly and has people skills and stuff? I AM YOURS FOR LIFE.
This may sound kind of over the top. But I feel like I can say that because this magical combination hardly ever happens. And I was brought up with high expectations. My dad was a doctor. And the level of service that he provided, compared to the chuckleheads that I usually see these days, makes him seem like Dr. Hiram Baker in terms of how much he cared about his patients. He knew them all, and their families, and he always called them to tell them their results personally, instead of having the lab people do it, and during the holidays to this day, his house is bursting with cookies, and cards, and homemade peanut brittle, and pointsettia flowers, all from former patients that still remember my dad fondly even though he’s been retired for a long ass time.
So compared to that, I don’t think that having a non-annoyed face when I ask a question and a friendly demeanor is too much to ask.
This attitude I have means that I discard a lot of doctors and dentists. A lot. It’s like bad boyfriends, bad friends, bad jobs- it’s not that I never had them, I just can never keep them around. If you aren’t being good to me, you have got to go. No hard feelings, but I am out of here. And like bad boyfriends, and friends, and jobs, after you have seen a lot of them, you keep hope alive that it could be different, but your optimism starts to fade. So when you do find a good one, it’s like a freaking miracle.
As the hygenist was going to start her teethscaping, she told me that, as usual, it might inflame my gums a bit. She says, “I have a gel that I can rub on there first, that numbs the gums a little bit so it’s not quite as sensitive. Would you like some of that, or no?”
Who would say no to this question? Why would you NOT want your gums to miss out on the scrapey-scrapey? Is this controversial, like getting an epidural for childbirth or something? Is there a no-numbing dental movement out there that I don’t know about? I would like to go on record to say that when it comes to someone prodding my mouth with sharp objects, I would ALWAYS LIKE THE NUMBING. Can you just put that in my chart there? Because really, you never have to ask me that again.
Also, they totally couldn’t read my blood pressure, you guys! They tried like six times. It was like I didn’t have a heart beat or something. It looked like it was reading something, and then it just would stop. The lady actually said “it’s weird. It’s like you’re NOT THERE.”
Deep, right? It’s like I’m not even REAL. Spooky.
I was actually kind of excited about the prospect of my being not there, or a vampire or something, but then they brought out another blood pressure thingy and it worked.
They also were playing The Clash in the exam room. How awesome is that?
I love my new dentist.