La Dentista

Costa Rica is well known for having exceptional medical care at lower costs than in the U.S. Since it was time for my regular dentist visit and such offices are plentiful in San Isidro, I picked what looked like one of the nicest dental offices and went in last week to make an appointment.

A pleasant receptionist was deeply engrossed in a book. The waiting room, which was empty, was immaculate. I pointed at the calendar to make an appointment for today, which is market day. She took my name and phone number and scheduled me for 9 a.m. Today we got up at 4:30 in order to hike to the village to catch the 5:30 bus for the two-hour ride into town.

We did a few errands together and then Pecos went off – alone, unfettered, cash-heavy – to the market, where he would cajole with vendors, sample wares, give coins to beggars who now look for him, and visit with the Amish man who makes superb fruit wines.

I entered the dentist’s office and the waiting room was empty again. The receptionist stopped reading her newspaper and gave me a form to fill out, which I mostly understood, checking “no” by each box that seemed to ask if I had medical problems or was allergic to anything.

I suddenly realized that the reception area and its bathroom seemed to be all that there was – no hallway to offices of dentist and hygienists, no consultation rooms. Just then a narrow door that I had thought was a closet off to the side and behind the reception station opened. There was the dentist, a pleasant-looking 40-ish man wearing a waiter’s jacket.

We shook hands as was customary and I followed him back to what must have been a store at one time. The spacious room held a dentist chair and a few pieces of dental equipment in the far corner. The receptionist came along. I sat in the chair and was glad to notice advanced degree diplomas from Universidad de Costa Rica on the wall.

Unfortunately, this dentist did not speak English. I repeated “routine cleaning” a few times, to no avail. Then I said, lavanderia de las ropas! Lavador para los carros! Laundromat and car wash he understood, but still seemed perplexed until I repeated the phrases while knocking on my teeth. If this dentist cannot understand charades and direct references, how good could he be at cleaning teeth and later repairing two chips?

Finally ready for action, he lowered the chair until I was almost standing on my head. He tore two paper towels from a roll and tucked one under my chin and handed me the other. He worked on my teeth for an hour and a half and the receptionist stood by, inches away, never moving. The phone never rang and no one else came in. I memorized every inverted word on the diplomas, just in case anything went wrong. The dentist was very gentle and spoke quietly; he wore latex gloves and his tools were sterilized. This was a good thing as the basic tools were all that he had, other than the spit thing like my childhood dentist had half a century ago.

When done he gave me a small hand mirror to approve of his work – a job well done. We shook hands again and I thanked him for putting me upright. I made an appointment for Pecos to have a cleaning next week and another for myself for repair of the two chips/fracturas.

I shopped leisurely for an hour, dined at a soda, and caught up with Pecos at the bus station for the trip home. He carried a knapsack and two large bags loaded with fruits and vegetables, and just one bag of candy.

How was the dentist, did everything seem modern and clean, was it like in the States? Pecos asked. You’re going to love it, I told him. He’ll at least appreciate the price, which was $30. 