When I had felt well again, I called the cheap-o dentist and told them what my needs were.  They wanted me to come in more than three weeks later.  I asked for something earlier and had about a week to wait.  Unfortunately, my tooth broke in the interim.  Now, here I was, with grandiose ideas that I’d not only get my tooth fixed, but I’d become the voice for their commercials. 

I let them know before I came, but when I got there, all they wanted to do was take x-rays.  They hadn’t considered scheduling me for a broken tooth.  Moreover, after prodding at my teeth quite viciously, the young dentist said, “Well, you’re right.  You broke your tooth.”  What the…?  I know.  I still have the other chunk of it sitting in my bathroom.  She then told me that I had seven cavities.  Huh?  How did I get seven cavities in two years?  I’ve had four my whole life.  I started to tear up. 

Instead of backing away to let me have some time alone, this just-out-of-school over-achieving Chinese-American girl living up to her cultural expectations failed to recognize she was talking to an Italian-American from Jersey trying to deny her cultural expectations by fighting the urge to overturn the equipment in the room.  I asked her many detailed questions about why brushing my teeth so thoroughly hadn’t prevented this and getting answers like, “you have a specific bacteria in your mouth that people who may not take care of their teeth don’t have and therefore have less cavities.” 

Well, I know I’m not going to take dental care very seriously anymore.  I repeatedly asked her to just get me the quote, but she kept pushing to cheer me up.  Of course, her efforts only further embarrassed me, upset me, ignited me.  In the end, unable to get my questions answered and feeling backed into a wall about cheering up, I got a bit snappy.  When she said, “Don’t worry, we’ll take a look at the cavities in six months…” for the fourth time, but this time adding, “and things will be better for you.” 

“Really?  I’ve been unemployed for two years.  I went to college, got my degree, but I wasn’t so pragmatic as you.  I didn’t follow a logical path and I’m sitting in an isolated area an hour from anything with 19% unemployment comprised mostly of labor jobs that I can’t do.  Is it going to be better for me in six months?” That’s when the office manager came in, because I was right near the waiting area in a room with no doors.  She had no idea what I said, but could tell I was upset. 

Instead of calming me down or asking what happened or, for crying out loud, LEAVING ME ALONE which along with a quote was all I wanted, she suggested if I was going to talk to dentists that way, they didn’t need me to come back so what did I want to do?  I tried to reason with her, but she suggested it again.  My husband later informed me that she was fishing for an apology as a power play.  Oh, that makes sense.  Of course, I didn’t do anything but cry about money.  I didn’t insult the dentist, cuss, yell, or growl.

Confused by this woman’s proposal and her failure to listen to me, I got my money back and left. 

Moral of the story:  Some times, we need to back off.  I recall watching a girl completely freak out in the most vile way on a reality tv clip.  I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t hang out with her, but I could feel for her because she kept asking to be left alone and no one would.  They pushed her and pushed her until she snapped.  I could have walked out calm if they would’ve just gotten me my quote so I could get to work on figuring out how to pay, but instead, I had an audience and one hawk who was going to save me.