The Dentist in the Bar

I do not usually make it a point to publicize the fact that I wear a retainer when I sleep, but it is worth noting because of the way in which it was replaced.

The story begins about three weeks ago when my retainer felt uncomfortable to wear. I noticed that a slight rip in the side that has existed for years had increased in size. Concerned, I talked to one of the teachers at my school who I feel closest with and asked her about seeing a dentist. She had no idea what a retainer was or what it would look like. My explanations turned into a lesson for all the English teachers and a show and tell of google images. After she understood properly what I needed she called her mother - the pediatrician - who put my friend in touch with an orthodontist.

My friend met me two weeks ago at 7:15AM, so that she could translate for me at the orthodontist’s office. This was an interesting office because unlike in the US where you check in at a reception desk, the office staff assumed that you were there for your appointment. Every-so-often a nurse entered the waiting room to collect insurance cards or usher a patient to the dentist. The appointment resulted in the agreement that I could live with my retainer, but it was best to invest in a new one.

While I waited for the estimates for a new retainer, my friend talked with the dentist in our sports group (every Tuesday I play multiple sports with an outdoor adventure club and we meet at the local university's gym). On a weekend trip to an indoor water park, I also talked with the dentist, who is fluent in English. He told me that on the following Tuesday he would take a look at my retainer and bring all the necessary equipment to take impressions of my teeth for a new one. On Tuesday, November 20th, I met my dentist in the gym's locker room and he agreed to make me a new retainer. Only, he would make it in a bar. So we played two hours of basketball, soccer, and a floor ball and then went to the local bar where the outdoor club meets. After the club members were on their second beer and the doctor finished his second soda (he was sober), he started mixing the cement-like substance for the impression. He enlisted my friend and fellow teacher as his assistant and they both put on protective gloves. I leaned back against the wall, so that the dentist could take an impression of my teeth. A lot of the club members found this hilarious and when the waitress came in, she was a bit startled. My friend told me I was brave, but the truth is I found the entire event entertaining. Unfortunately, the first mold did not work, but the second time was the charm. The doctor took the mold back to his office to make me a new retainer, along with a small piece of my old retainer to make sure that the new one was made out of the same material. Then we cleaned up the table, paid our bills, and went home! The retainer is finished and I should receive it next Tuesday!

Photos of me:

My view from the "dentists chair":