Drills, Hammers, and a Bib

No this isn't some strange hardware store. It is in fact a dentist's office. Dental facilities here in China are much the same as those in the States, but there are a few things the average lao wai should be aware of.

When you think about visiting the dentist back home, the first thing that pops into your head is probably the front waiting room with the receptionist sitting behind the desk, a couch, some magazines, a water cooler and maybe a  couple of toys for the kids; right? The next thing you might think of is the hygienist or nurse opening the door and asking you to "please follow me." She (sometimes a he) then takes you into one of several rooms, at the center of which is a dental chair with all the usual tools. You then sit in the chair, the hygienist places a bib around your neck and starts poking and prodding and cleaning and talking. In fact you probably don't see the dentist until near the end of your visit when he or she checks on the hygienist's work, or when you need a cavity filled.

Let's pretend that you need a tooth pulled. After the hygienist is done with you, you may or may not be escorted into another room, this one with even more equipment and brighter lights. In the case of my dentist growing up, they usually closed to door also (all the better to prevent any screams from escaping the torture chamber). Then the dentist gloves up, turns on all the gizmos, and sticks you with a needle to get your face feeling like it sticks out 10 inches, and begins drilling. When you are done, the dentist gives you a prescription for some anti-inflammatory drugs, or just tells you to take a lot of Ibuprofen, and an antibiotic. This is what my dentist office was like back home.

For the most part, Chinese dental offices are similar in some ways, but VERY different in others. To begin with, when you check in, you must first register with a receptionist who gives you a paper to fill out with all of your essential information--name, sex, DOB, residence, job. Then you take that paper to another window where all the information is placed into a computer system. This receptionist then hands you a small book (your outpatient record), a paper slip, and something that looks like a debit card. This card is linked to an electronic copy of all your records. You then take all of that to another floor where you see something that looks like an airport terminal (bench seats included) and hand your small paper to a nurse sitting at a desk who puts your name on "the list."

Depending on what time of day you arrive and how many people are there with you, you could wait anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours for them to call your name. When they do, you are told to walk down the hallway to cubicle X. In the case of the clinic near my place, there are 12 such cubicles, each with its own chair and nurse/hygienist. The nurse/hygienist then takes a cursory look at your mouth. If you are there for a cleaning, you are in and out in 20 minutes. If you are, as I was, there to get "work" done, she pokes and prods for about two minutes and then tells you to go to another office, wait in another "terminal" and see the dentist.

This office has fewer cubicles--4 in my case--and like before, a chair, tools, and nurse/hygienist in each one. This time however, there is a dentist. when they call your name, you hand your small booklet, card, and piece of paper to the nurse/hygienist who pulls up all of your information on a computer. You sit in the chair (which by the way has not been cleaned since the last person sat in it). The doctor gloves up, but does not place a bib on you and starts poking and prodding. Then he numbs your mouth with Novocaine and begins to work on whichever tooth is causing the offense. Meanwhile, everyone who is waiting for the dentist to call their name is standing around and watching. In other words there is no privacy. it's like what I imagine those old 19th century operating theaters must have felt like; "Hey, everyone look at the freak in the chair!" You can hear the yells of the person in the next cubicle as loudly as you can hear your own.

When he is finished, you return to the second receptionist and turn in your small paper and give them your card. They then pull up the cost of your medications on the computer and you pay for them there. Then you take the prescription receipt to yet another counter and get your medication. Once you have your Amoxycillin in your hands, you return to the dentist where you hand over your book. The hygienist places a stamp in it and you sign it. Then you are on your way. Bit different, huh?

For those who are wondering, I had to have one of my wisdom teeth pulled because it broke and got a humongous cavity.  It cost a whopping 150 yuan for the 3 hour visit (only 45 minutes of which were spent with the dentist). That said, if you have molars with twisted roots (as many westerners do, me included) remember that Chinese dentists are not accustomed to this so they will be pounding, pulling, and drilling for a lot longer than would normally happen in the comfort of your dentist's office back home. What does that mean? It means that your mouth in going hurt a hell of a lot more.