I am nervous whenever I’m in the School of Dentistry in Moos Tower. Even on days like today when I have no patients scheduled, I am constantly aware of a sensation of compression: my heart beating in the back of my throat.
I noticed this today as I was pouring the stone to produce an altered cast. Nothing broke, nothing leaked, nothing was lost. We’ll get this fellow his removable partial dentures (upper and lower) in a few weeks, and things will be fine. So, it’s peculiar that I’m still so full of adrenaline — I wonder if my subconscious senses danger, even though nothing truly bad has happened at school for quite a while.
But the academic publishers get their articles, their
peer reviewing (vetting by other researchers) and even
much of their editing for free. The material they publish
was commissioned and funded not by them but by us,
through government research grants and academic stipends.
But to see it, we must pay again, and through the nose.
Sewing project #1 completed: just finished stitching up the crotch hole in my 3 year old pair of scrub bottoms! Let’s see if we can’t get them to last for 9 more months.
Three patients left until my last dental school summer break EVER. This is extremely exciting! This fall, it is the beginning of the end. It is a little odd to be starting summer break in August, though. In high school, I was lamenting the twilight of summer at this point in the year.
Since the humidity and heat decided to die down for a day, it has been feeling downright cool outside — 70° with a pleasant breeze. Things smell different — there’s a crispness that isn’t fall but isn’t the oppressive July heat, either.
Halfway through yet another rotation (pediatric dentistry), I’m beginning to realize that there is a point in my life when I’ll be done with dental school. At that point, I’ll have a world of options in front of me. Like a river delta opening into the ocean, my life will have 1000 directions where there once was one. Invigorating, right? Well, I suppose. More on that in a minute. Here’s something I wrote almost four years ago, on the private changelog for my software that powers tumbledry:
Ok, it’s set. I take my third set of boards (NBDE written, Part II) on October 10 and 11. By my count, that’s just over 2 months from now. I have a large box of “decks” — 1440 flashcards made by some very smart (rich) company and distributed by the Minnesota Dental Association. They have some errors in them — let’s hope I don’t memorize any of the errors.
Home is a five minute bike ride from school. I’ve increased my efficiency in clinic, freeing up time after my morning appointment. These two facts mean I get to come home and see my wife for lunch. I love that a lot.
Though Mykala is away right now, I can sit here at home, on a warm summer afternoon, and enjoy the view onto our tree-lined patio.
I work shoulder-to-shoulder with people whose future occupation Minnesota is calling “Dental Therapist” — essentially what a nurse practitioner is to a physician. Unlike nurse practitioners, however, Minnesota’s Dental Therapists do not enjoy nationwide support. I hadn’t realized how little support the entire occupation has until recently. Take a look at the American Dental Association’s Comment on American Association of Public Health Dentistry Dental Therapist Curriculum Development:
I am exhausted. Hot, too. Thankfully today is much cooler, but a few days back it was the hottest day ever recorded in Minnesota. Of course, there are certain factors regarding the weather station calling the official numbers into question, but here’s what we’ve got:
My 84-year-old patient was nearing the end of another denture fitting appointment, and he had just accidentally spilled all of his water on the operatory floor. “No no,” I said, “you’re doing just fine.” Trying to reassure him, I couldn’t think of anything better to say.
It’s thundering right now. I’m sick as heck, and Mykala just got back for the evening. She was kind enough to make me an absolutely delicious late dinner.
Today, a doctor was extremely disappointed with what I had done with my crown preparation. Their exact words: “What were you thinking?” I did not appreciate hearing this, nor did I appreciate the way they had handled the entire appointment. I wanted to say this to the doctor: “Look, there are two possibilities. Either I messed this up on purpose, just to bother you. OR, I am still learning, and had I had a little more guidance, I’m sure the final product would have been well within your range of ideal. Now give me a break.”
One slip, and I gave myself four extra hours of lab work. Here’s how.
At the School of Dentistry, we are short on cash. (Our dean is also leaving, but that’s a story for another day). So, the students (us) do a lot of intricate lab work in order to make the stuff our patients need (crowns, bridges, etc.). That way, we don’t have to pay a professional lab to do as much of our lab work. This does the following:
I should be studying right now. I wonder what I’ll remember from this time of my life when I look back. Will I remember freaking out in my first year? Will I remember the endless parade of exams in my second year? Or will I focus on my very first patients and my learning to be a clinician in my third?
The seniors at dental school are elated: boards results came in and most of them are past their last large hurdle of school. In the meantime, us third years are emerging from the trenches to start out charge toward graduation. In 60 days, we’ll be the oldest at the school.
Earlier this semester, there was a day at school when I finally stopped being afraid. I can’t point out the box on the calendar when it happened, but at the end of that day I realized something had clicked. Reminds me of this quote:
Friday, I’ll be fitting a gold crown, a single tooth removable partial denture, and a multi-tooth maxillary removable partial denture. So tomorrow, I deliver over $2000 in dentistry.
By the end of today, I was so annoyed with things in general that the sound of someone walking up the stairs at the Rec Center was enough to drive me bonkers. Clomp clomp clomp. ARRRRGGGHHHH! It all started this afternoon.
Things started going poorly when I called Dr. Klein over. Well wait, I guess it all started last month, when I was in admissions clinic with a schizophrenic patient. She was well-controlled (said she didn’t hear voices anymore, which was more blunt than I had expected), but the side effect of well-controlled schizophrenia tends to be… reduced faculties. Like, the person is there, but they aren’t there. It’s difficult for patients to think through the drugs.
Having got that previous post of life-threaten(ed) melodrama out of my system, it’s now time to confront the epidemic of cheating in schools.
Cheating, 2008
I left out an important detail when I told the story of my impossible first semester at dental school. It goes like this: shortly after receiving the news on the 12th of November, 2008 that I was mere points from failing two critical classes, I was in the library cramming for a histology quiz on which I could not afford to lose any points. A classmate of mine approached me.
I sometimes wonder what it must be like to live a life without the intervention of modern medicine. What must it be like when your teeth fit together just fine without braces, when you can see without corrective lenses, when you’ve required no surgery to remove oversized adenoids, tonsils, or appendices, when your robust joints have required no surgery, when your skin grows no cancers…
We’ve got this class taught by an amazingly well-educated fellow named Dr. Zidan. He’s taking our previous 3 operative dentistry classes and pushing the envelope on what we accept. Silver fillings (amalgam) come up… and we commonly consider these as treatment options. But then he challenges us: look at the fat margins that let bacteria in, look at the extra tooth structure removed, look at all the alternatives which provide a more esthetically pleasing result! Frankly, this is exactly what we need right now—a modern take on dentistry.
