Back From the Road, Back to Work!

I have next-to-no time on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have to be in class at 9:30 and my yoga and pilates class goes to 8 o' clock, and I haven't been able to do laundry since getting back home, but I have enough clothes for one more day.

Things are shaping up for my semester, work and project-wise.

I just got an acceptance from the Central States Anthropological Society for a poster submission. That means I have three presentations in April; one in Minneapolis, MN; one in Madison, WI; and one in Chicago, IL. That's going to be a busy month! These are all poster sessions and will focus on various parts of my work on Pike Creek. Which I need to get back to doing. I have hydrologic GIS data to hunt down, and more oral interviewing to plan out with my advisor.

My semester project for my GIS class will likely be geo-referencing of a set of ward maps, aerial photos, and perhaps some Sanborn fire insurance maps, of Kenosha. That will all contribute toward my poster presentation for AAG at the same time. Plus, because it will be digitizing material held by the Parkside archives, I can work on it during work hours there and get paid. Yay!

My history class will require reading two books on a particular historical topic and writing a formal analysis and comparison. I think my topic is going to be urban renewal in major cities in the '60s and '70s. This is convenient because I'm in an urban planning class wherein I need to do a book report, so I'm going to use one monograph for both of those. It will likely be Jane Jacobs' "The Death and Life of Great American Cities" which I started reading today. It's been on my list for a while anyway. Not sure about the second one yet. Can anyone suggest any good historical monographs on urban renewal? I may have to do a little lit review.

I ate some really hot (temperature-wise) food on the way home from Oklahoma. It was hours after my dental work, but I may have still had some residual numbness, 'cause I burned the roof of my mouth quite badly. My mother checked with a flashlight and thinks that it blistered. I can't eat solid food yet, and am slightly worried. The internet does note that it can take up to a week for this kind of thing to heal, but I may ask the campus clinic to look at it tomorrow.

My Adventure with Medical Tourism to Oklahoma, Part I

I packed up after school got out on Wednesday, then picked Lisa up from work about 8. We stayed the night at her place in Uptown, then got on the road Thursday morning. After stopping at Target to stock up on some road food, we headed south out of Chicago around ten thirty. My GPS kept adding and subtracting an hour to the trip time, but I was expecting a twelve hour drive. Which it turned out to be, more or less!

There were several stops for leg stretching and bathroom visits. Late at night, while Lisa was in a gas station in Vinita, Oklahoma, I also took the opportunity to drive back a block and photograph a movie theatre. I'm glad Lisa trusts me enough to not feel nervous being 650 miles from home as her ride drives off in a strange city without her!

We arrived at the Cox Business Center, the site of the clinic, around two in the morning. With helpful advice from someone outside the building, we got parked in a lot across the street and walked over. After our previous experiences at the Wisconsin Mission of Mercy events, we were both ready to wait outside in the thirty-degree weather. Fortunately, there was a large indoor space open to those waiting in line. We got our numbers - 506 and 507 if I remember correctly - and camped out. I brought in my yoga mat, and Lisa her folding chair. I tried to nap a little bit, but without much success. Finally, at around 4:30, the first folks inline starting filling out paperwork and things began moving.

All in all, we were at the clinic for sixteen hours that day. The process is something like this. You fill out paperwork describing the problem you're having for the people in triage. Once the triage folks get to you, they examine you and possibly get x-rays done. Looking at mine, the dentist there noted three cavities, two of them pretty deep, and setme up to go to the hygiene line for a cleaning, then to the restorative line for fillings.

The process was pretty slow. I was expecting it to be an all-day thing, but even at the Wisconsin MoMs, I'd gotten out in the early afternoon. Maybe there were fewer staff in Oklahoma. It doesn't matter much to me, honestly; this is free care from people who are doing this out of the goodness of their hearts. I have no complaints about having to wait to receive it.

Hygiene got my teeth cleaned up, and the dentist there expressed concern that my cavities might be deep enough to need a root canal. They numbed me to prep for filling work, and moved me on to the next line. By the time I got through it though, it was a few hours later and the numbing had worn off. No worries; the dentist in restorative numbed me up again and got to work. She agreed that a root canal *might* be necessary, but she was going to do her best to avoid it.

I really liked her. She was in her fifties maybe, an experienced dentist who was working with a young assistant. I'm not sure if they knew each other prior to the event. The dentist's directions were without malice or anger, but were deeply authoritative and expectant. She was also teaching more than just procedural technique. "Don't set out tools I don't need," she said at one point. "They have to sterilized, which dulls them. In your private practice, that will cost you money."

I enjoyed listening to their exchanges. Even when the dentist said "Suction. In. In. In. No, don't hit me; I'm *holding* a *drill*."

At the end, the dentist told me that it has been difficult. The cavities were deep. She had to follow them a long way in, and she didn't have the right tools for the job. However, she is a perfectionist, and she made it work. She was pretty sure there was no nerve infiltration, but there was a chance that I would develop a very bad toothache that night and would have to come back for a root canal. Then, after the quick synopsis, she asked if I was a hugger, and she gave me a hug. The gesture made me feel even better about her. Confident, experienced, and caring. I'd see her in private practice in a heartbeat. I think I'll write a letter to Oklahoma MoM and tell them so.

Lisa, meanwhile, had a different experience. Her dentist was rough and brusque. He sprayed anesthetic inside her mouth, and basically ignored her indication that she felt choked by stuff in her mouth. When we finally made it back to the motel room I'd booked at eight o' clock that evening, she told me about her experience.

It was hard to listen to on 36 hours without sleep on top of all the stress and worry that I've felt for her for so long. I knew that she does not deal well with dentists. Everyone I've ever dealt with at these clinics has been so warm and genuine and caring that I felt really good about taking Lisa there. Not just for dental work, but because the whole experience would be good. When she talked about how her surgery had gone, my emotional state was already pretty fragile. I was furious at the dentist. I was despondent at her treatment and the pain and fear she'd suffered. I felt like I'd failed in my attempt to take care of her; to make things ok for her.

I held her until she feel asleep with her head in my lap. Then I called my parents and Danaeris both. I told them what happened, and cried at them while they comforted me. I'm so glad they were there to help me get my head back together.

I was feeling pretty fragile when I left the clinic to begin with. For the past 36 hours, I'd been in a position where I felt that I needed to take care of Lisa. Once we were finally done with the clinic and the immediate danger posed by her infected tooth was resolved, that organizing framework to my actions had dissipated and I was ready to just tune out for a while. I was withdrawn and unresponsive in the car. I just wanted to get to the motel and turn off. But seeing that Lisa needed support, along with reassurance from people I love, got me back together pretty quickly. I drove out to get her a frosty from Wendy's since she wasn't up to eating anything solid. I got some acetaminophen for myself, too, in case the horrendous pain that the dentist told me would signal a need for a root canal manifested.

Whether or not a toothache developed, I was going to have to go back to the clinic the next day. One of the fillings was too high and was preventing my teeth from making contact correctly. After 16 hours there, the thought of going back was crushing. "You need to get this done now," Lisa said later on, when we were both a bit more coherent. And she was right. It meant that my plan to leave for home early on Saturday morning was not tenable, and that was aggravating, but there was nothing to be done. I set my alarm for 5 o' clock, and we both went to bed.

I totally failed to get up at five o' clock. It was probably an unreasonable expectation. I got back to the clinic around nine in the morning. I was carrying a piece of paper from the day before with information about the treatment I'd had; basically a fast-pass in case there were complications. I explained that I wasn't developing the toothache I'd feared, but that I needed to have a filling adjusted. They got me through into restorative really quickly; I was out in less than two hours, I think. Since it was a quick and easy job, they gave me to a dental student, with a graduation date three months out. She was great, and soon all was well. I got out the door of the clinic, feeling much better than the night before. I think having had actual, real sleep may have had as much to do with that as did the satisfactory completion of my dental work.

Finally, Lisa and I were ready to head homeward. But despite the delays, I was still going to see the things I'd been so excited about seeing in Tulsa and elsewhere, damn it! Even if it meant having to pay for another night's loding. So the two of us, both in much better spirits, and feeling wonderfully energized by a day of t-shirted sight-seeing in an exciting new place in 60 degree weather, made for a sculpture symbolizing the connection of East and West along Route 66.

Which is where I will begin the second half of my write-up.

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Woody Guthrie and the people he wrote and sang about have been in my head a lot as I think about this trip. As I think of the people standing in line for this clinic, I think of one of the lines from This Land is Your Land that rarely gets included.

"One bright sunny morning in the shadow of the steeple
By the Relief Office I saw my people
As they stood hungry, I stood there wondering
if this land was made for you and me."