This I gotta write home about...

    Regardless of the dentist that I am working with, I can still show compassion and kindness in my own actions.  I had a few neat experiences today.

    Morning

   Little 9 year old girl is escorted kicking and shrieking into the clinic, mother struggling against her wriggling body to place her on the chair.  It was immediately clear that she was too worked up for us to be successful in even getting her to open her mouth.  We told her mom that there were other children waiting, and her daughter would have her wait to be treated until after the other children were seen...

   Still freaking out at these new surroundings and people, her mom led her out of the clinic, but not before the next little patient stepped through the door to see all the commotion.

   His eyes bugged out of his head in horror, and his calm demeanor began to unleash a torrent of frightened tears.   What was this torture house that he was being led to?  In broken pigeon french, I tried to communicate as much as I could.  I greeted him and told him my name and asked for his, I tried to comfort him and lessen the scariness of the dental chair.  His terror has subsided for the moment.  The dayworker gently explained what was going to happen with the freezing, and the little boy remained calm until the needle came into view.  He began to kick and shriek and writhe in the chair, and the mother, dayworker and myself had to hod him down as the injection was given.  So sad to upset such a scared little kid, but I have to put it in perspective:  They may be scared and sore for a few minutes while we take out his tooth, but he wont have a sore tooth anymore, and he sure won't get a life-threatening abscess from infection.  While we waited for the anesthetic to take effect, I tried to humor him with my horrible french as we played with a stuffed Bambi.  The extraction itself was the same drama, but it was over quick.  He refused to let us use the saliva ejector to remove the pool of fluid that was filling up his mouth.  I tried to sop it up with gauze.  Despite the day-workers instructions, he couldn't grasp the concept that he could swallow.  The piece of gauze in the empty socket would have sufficed in stopping the bleeding, but he wouldn't swallow any of the saliva in his mouth, and so he ended up making a mess on the front of his striped terry cloth romper as a thick slow-motion waterfall of bloody saliva fell to his clothes.  We tried to clean him up as best we could, but really he just wanted to leave.  I tried to console him as I led him and his mom to be dismissed...

    A man in his mid-thirties sat down in the chair and greeted us "Merry Christmas, may God bless you."  I wasn't sure if he actually spoke English or if he had just learned a specific phrase.  Upon questioning him, I learned that he was from the neighboring country of Sierra Leone, which used to be a British colony and whose official language is English.  I was so excited!  An English speaking patient!  It was so relaxing to be able communicate with no barriers.  There was however, one barrier for the dentist.  As an Aussie, she spoke the same language as this patient, but her accent had enough twang to it that she may as well have been speaking another language to him.  So in a funny change of events, I ended up being the dentist's translator to the patient - translating English to English.  That was the easiest job I ever had.  Maybe I should start my own accent translating business...

   As the afternoon wore on, I went to fetch the next patient from the courtyard.  A teenage boy, our patient sat obediently on a bench next to guess who?  The little boy from the morning in the blood-stained striped terry suit.  He was the little boy's older brother!  I waved to the little boy and he hopped off his bench and trotted over to me.  He thought that I had been summoning him.  I smiled, rubbed his shoulder and thanked him for behaving so well.  Then I had to send him back to his bench.  So we treated his older brother, who behaved much better than his younger brother - he had the brain development to realize he needed to have teeth taken out - or else...

   Simultaneously the mother of these two brothers was also having teeth taken out.  (It's a family affair when Mercy Ships comes to town!)  As she got up to leave she made her way over to me, patted me on the shoulder to get my attention, and began to make thankful hand-motions as if she were semi-bowing (don't know how I feel about that).  Couldn't speak English but I will translate it to mean "Thank you for treating my children so gently.  Your kind face helped to ease their anxieties."  Who knows what she meant, but I like to think that someone appreciates that I am not a heartless assistant butcher.   After mother was dismissed, I found my little friend.  He let me take his hand and lead him to his waiting mom.   He did not shrink back away from me.  I guess I am not viewed as the bad guy.  I thanked him again and had to leave, but I so wanted to pick the kid up and give him a big hug.  (I guess I just miss Tippy?)

   Last patient of the day and guess who walks in?  Little 9 year old girl from the morning who was so worked up even before she was in the clinic.  "Oh great!" the dentist and I mused, "This shall be fun."  We prepared ourselves for the worst.  Anesthetic loaded, forceps within reach for a 'snatch and grab,' myself and the day worker ready to restrain her thrashing, we brought the anesthetic syringe to her mouth and were struck dumbfounded when she didn't move a muscle.  No flinch, no squeak, just complete acceptance of the impending dental procedure!  This obedience continued even when the forceps made an appearance.  What the heck happened to her?  As it turns out, her mom had promised her the 5000 Guinea Franc bill that she clutched in her tiny hand only if she behaved for the dentist.  She deserved every penny for such good behavior.  She must have really wanted that money!