"Dentists and Diapers" by Troy H. Cheek on May 12, 2005

Long-time readers might remember my much-applauded "Dentists and Dragons" series from last year. Actually, I think most of the applause was because I finally wrapped up the series and stopped moaning about my root canal. Regardless, I came away from that experience with a renewed sense of concern when it comes to my dental health. My mental health suffered greatly, but that's another story altogether.

I recently called the office of Dentist #5 to ask for an emergency appointment. It was not an actual emergency, mind you. You just have to tell them that or they let the computer pick a date for your next appointment. The last time that happened, the computer picked one for the next year.

In this case, I needed to see the doctor as soon as possible. I explained to them that I was feeling some tenderness and had a little swellig in the gum on the outer side of tooth #18. No, it wasn't an unbearable pain. No, it wasn't bleeding. No, the tooth itself wasn't causing any problem.

"Then, why, sir, are you requesting an emergency appointment?"

"Because back when I was getting the root canal, the doctor kept asking if I had any tenderness or ulcers or swelling or sore areas in the gum around the tooth he was working on. He told me that these things were indicative of major infections below the gumline and needed to be attended to immediately. The last time I was in, I told him I'd had some tenderness and an ulcer-looking thing on my gum but that it had went away by the time my next appointment came up. He told me the next time I felt one of those coming up, I was to come in to see him immediately before it went away."

"I see. Well, the computer says that the next available appointment is at the start of next month..."

"If I just show up tomorrow morning, can I wait around until he can squeeze me in?"

"I suppose so..."

They told me to be there at 7:45am. I rolled into the parking lot at 7:30am. Then I had to sit and wait until 7:57am when the staff finally started showing up. I spent the time chatting with the dentist. He had also shown up early expecting the staff to already be there. Another surprise was that his keys no longer seemed to unlock the office door. "Maybe they're trying to tell me something..."

Once inside, I was shown to a room and promptly ignored. Eventually, the dentist did find his way over to me and proceeded to poke and prod at my gums. This ulcer was obviously an indicator of a huge absess at the roots of one of my teeth and a quick X-ray would show us exactly which one.

Three X-rays later, he admitted that maybe I didn't have an absess after all.

After some more pokes and prods, the dentist decided that I had some kind of recurring infection in my gums, probably completely unrelated to my teeth. It was bacterial or viral or possibly even fungal. He went off to check his reference books and I went back to some important research material of own. Oh, Padme, why did you have to go and marry Anakin? Didn't I say that you'd be much better off with me?

He returned with a prescription for an anti-fungal cream. "Rub this on your gums four or five times a day. If it is a fungal infection, this will clear it up in a few days. Keep using it for another few days after that. Come back and see me in two weeks."

With that, I continued on to work, stopping only to drop off the prescription at my local pharmacy. "I've got some kind of gum infection and my dentist wrote me this prescription. Can you fill it for me? He wants me to start on it today."

The pharmacy guy glanced at it. "Certainly! It will be ready this afternoon."

After work, I dropped back by the pharmacy. "I'm back!"

"Oh, it's you." Never a good sign. "Um, there's a tiny little problem with your prescription." There always is. "We have this in a rinse and in a pill, but we don't have it in a cream in the strength you've been prescribed. We've ordered it, but it will take a day or two to come in."

I thought that over. "No, he wanted me to start on this immediately. I'd better just take the prescription to another pharmacy."

"NOOOOoooo!" the owner shreiked. The fact that she was out of town didn't keep me from hearing her distinctly.

"Wait a second. Let me check on something." He sent one of the other techs out of the building for a few minutes. She came back with the anti-fungal cream. I didn't ask where she got it. I don't know, and I'm pretty sure that for liability reasons, I don't want to know.

They rang me up and I paid my "minimal" co-pay. Walking out the door, I happened to glance down at the label. "Rub on the affected area 2-3 times a day or as directed by physician." The dentist said 4-5, but that's okay, as he's a physician. "Keep out of reach of children." A perfectly understandable precaution. "Do not wear rubber diapers while using this product." Urk!

Reading on, I found I was supposed to drink lots of fluids, avoid spicy foods, and change my diapers immediately after each bowel movement. Down at the bottom of the instructions it said EXTERNAL USE ONLY.

"Hey! Troy's back! Is something wrong?"

I tossed the box up onto the counter. "Um, yeah. The dentist told me to rub this on my gums 4-5 times a day but the instructions say it's for external use only."

"What? You can't use this stuff in your mouth! It's toxic. Besides, it probably tastes terrible."

Which is odd because it's usually the stuff that's good for you that tastes terrible. "Then why did you give it to me?"

"Well, we certainly didn't expect you to put it in your mouth!"

"I told you I had a gum infection and my dentist had written me a prescription. What did you expect?" That I was going to spread it on a soda cracker?

In a conspiratorial tone, the pharmacist confided "Actually, we'd been discussing that all day. We finally decided that sometimes a person can have such a bad infection in their mouth that it throws their whole system off and causes a rash on their... other end."

"My problems are actually in my mouth, thank you."

"I see. Let me call the dental center..."

A quick phone call later and my cream was replaced by a rinse. I was to swish and swallow 4-5 times a day. I did so. After a few days, the ulcers healed up. After a few more days, my gums were no longer swollen and sensitive. I swished for a few more days just to be sure.

I had to take part of a day off from work to go back for the follow-up visit, which didn't bother me because I'd already scheduled part of the day off for my regularly scheduled cleaning.

Well, I'd had a regularly scheduled cleaning. They called the day before to tell me we'd have to rescheduled. Something about the dental hygenist calling the office manager a homewrecking tramp and trying to run her down in the parking lot. Schedules would be a bit off for a while. Oh, but I was still on the books for my follow-up.

The follow-up was uneventful. I could have just phoned in that my gums were fine, but of course the dentist had to poke and prod for a while to confirm this for himself. He'd never gotten the whole story about the pharmacy, so I filled him in. I think I made his day.

On the way out, I stopped at the front desk to reschedule my cleaning. The computer spit out a date six months away. The receptionist was apologetic. "I'm sorry, sir. That's the earliest the computer will schedule you. It says you're not due another cleaning until then."

"Is the computer aware that I didn't get a cleaning today?" I said through gritted teeth.

"Well, we can't exactly tell it that, because you cancelled your appointment with less than 24 hours notice."

"I didn't cancel. You did. Hygenist? Tramp? Vehicular homicide? Any of that ring a bell in that vacant blonde head of yours?"

"I know we called you, sir. It's just the software doesn't seem to have an option for telling it that we cancelled. It assumes any cancellation was on your part. And if we tell it now, it will automatically bill you $25 for not giving us 24 hour notice before cancelling an appointment."

At that point, the dentist stepped in. To the receptionist he said "Put him on the short-call list. Ring him up the first time an opening in the schedule comes up."

Finally, the dentist was saying something I wanted to hear. "Thanks, Doc."

"No problem. Oh, and Troy..."

"Yes, Doc?"

"It's really not good for your teeth to grind them like that."

Copyright 2005 by Troy H. Cheek. Reprint with prior written permission only. Comments and questions to