What we won't miss

I've got to tell this story, but where to begin...

Ridgecrest has some issues with medical and dental care. There are decent practitioners here, but there are also many who are not so good. At one point I got fed up with the incompetence and just stopped going. "That's it," I told Rocket Boy and anyone else who would listen. "No more doctors. No more dentists. I'll go when we move back to Boulder."

Unfortunately, our move to Boulder was postponed, and I've thus been paying for my decision -- seriously, PAYING, as in MAJOR MOOLAH, because I didn't go to the dentist for three years. When bad tooth pain finally forced me to go back, my mouth was a mess. In the past two months I've had a root canal, a filling, and two crowns. And they tell me I probably need at least one more crown. Since our health insurance covers almost no dental work, this has been expensive.

But the worst of it is that I said "No more," to the twins' stupid dentist too, about 18 months ago? Two years? I could look it up but I don't want to, because it'll make me feel bad. "When we get back to Boulder, we'll go to the dentist," I said, but then a couple of weeks ago, Baby A started complaining that one of his teeth hurt. Then he refused to eat because it hurt to chew. What to do? I didn't want to go back to his stupid dentist. Rocket Boy, always proactive, called the adult dentist he and I have been going to and asked if they ever saw children. Wonder of wonders they do! So yesterday we took Baby A in for a consult.

Unfortunately, the news was bad. He has a large, deep cavity in the molar that was hurting. It's approaching the nerve. Worse, the repair is beyond what our dentist can do (they don't have the equipment to do major operations on small children's teeth). "I'll send you to a pediatric dentist in Lancaster," he said. "You need to take care of this right away."

His receptionist made the call for us and set up an appointment with the Lancaster dentist for Baby A for Friday afternoon at 2 pm. (This was a bit of a problem, because Rocket Boy is busy at work on Friday and daycare is having an in-service day, so I would have to bring both boys, but you take what you can get.) She even filled out a cute little appointment card for him, which listed the dentist's name and address (the card had obviously been given to our dentist by the Lancaster dentist at some point).

The Lancaster dentist's office called us at home later that afternoon to tell us that they didn't accept our insurance. (Who doesn't take Blue Cross? But whatever.) I told her it really didn't matter, because our insurance pays a pittance anyway. "So you want to be a cash patient?" she asked, sounding surprised. "Sure," I said. "Whatever." She told me it would cost $75 and they would see us on Friday at 2 pm.

Today, RB called me at home to tell me that he'd called the dentist himself and gotten an appointment on Thursday afternoon instead, so that he could come with us. OK, I said, we can make that work. So he called them once more to confirm the change. During the conversation, the topic of their address came up. They said they were on Devonshire Street. RB had never heard of a Devonshire Street in Lancaster, only the San Fernando Valley, so he asked what the cross street was. Winnetka and De Soto entered the conversation. "Wait a minute," he said. "What city are you in?"

Turns out they were in Chatsworth, in the San Fernando Valley. Nearly an hour's drive from the address in Lancaster we had been given. They only see patients at the Lancaster office on Wednesdays. Not Thursdays. Not Fridays (the day of our original appointment). (How lovely it would have been if I had driven ALL THE WAY to Lancaster with both boys on Friday only to find the office closed. Rocket Boy would like me to note that it was HIS proactivity that saved me from this fate. He is right. Duly noted!) RB asked if we could possibly get an appointment today, Wednesday, and they squeezed us in at 2:30.

[An aside, to put this in perspective. Many doctors in Ridgecrest are only in town one day a week, or in some cases, one or two days a month. Our gastroenterologists, for example, practice in Lancaster, and come to Ridgecrest one day every other week. I once had to see an ear-nose-and-throat doctor who had the same set-up. But we were going to see an LA dentist who only comes to LANCASTER one day a week. What would they think of us?]

When RB called me back and reported this interesting new development, I remembered that there was a website for the Lancaster dentist on the little appointment card we'd been given, so I tried to look it up. However, it no longer exists. Concerned, I googled the dentist's name. Apparently he gave up his private practice in 2010 and now teaches at a dental school. So who, exactly, were we going to be seeing? After some more googling I figured out that the dentist had sold his practice (and his address and phone number) to another dentist.

We had to go through all sorts of contortions to get to Lancaster by 2:30 (it's a 90-minute drive from Ridgecrest). As we drove through Mojave, RB pulled out his cell phone and called our adult dentist, the one who had sent us to this Lancaster dentist (or rather, to the former Lancaster dentist who now teaches in a dental school). As politely as possible, he asked the receptionist whether she knew that the dentist they'd sent us to was no longer practicing. No, she most certainly did not. He was going to ask whether they thought THIS dentist was worth going to -- but lost the signal. Not much cell phone coverage out here on these desert highways.

So we found the office (see above), and had the appointment. We didn't care for the office set-up, but I suppose since they're only there one day a week, they don't put much money into it. We DID like the staff, especially the very nice hygienist who cleaned Baby A's teeth, and the dentist -- a young woman. She felt strongly that Baby A needed something called a "pulpotomy," so we made an appointment to come back for that NEXT Wednesday at 8:30 am (incidentally, exactly one week before the twins and I start our drive to Boulder). Which means, if you're doing the math at home, that Baby A and I will have to leave Ridgecrest at 7 am. Whatever.

On the way home, Rocket Boy said, "Did it seem to you that they thought we were hicks?"

It did. "The whole 'cash patient' thing," I said. "I suppose me being dressed in my packing clothes didn't help either." (I had been planning to spend the whole day packing boxes. Ha ha ha.)

"I got the impression they thought Baby A's teeth were bad because we don't know about things like brushing and flossing," Rocket Boy went on.

I can't get mad. If I do, I'll lose my mind.

I just keep telling myself we're getting out of here. Some things we won't miss.