My Periodontist Dumped Me Today. Seriously.

It started innocently enough. I went in today for my third post-extraction follow-up. See, right after Christmas I was feeling pretty down about a very painful root canal and crown situation. My endodontist and my regular dentist got together and decided that an older crown was also decaying underneath, and nothing would do but for me to go see this friend of theirs, this great periodontist.

So I went. And he told me grand stories about dental implants and easy extractions. He had me at "Rinse". It was going so well. And then....today.

He says "How's the pain?"

"Better. Still hurts, but better."

"Looks like it's healing OK. You might have pain for two more weeks or so, but I think it will be OK. When are you moving?"

"June. Memorial Day weekend probably."

"Hmmm. Well, I think we just need to give this thing time to heal before we move on to the next phase. I don't think you'll be ready before your move, so I don't think we need to have any more follow-ups. Just find a dentist after you get settled in Indiana and he can pick it up from here."

I takes me a moment to wrap my head around what he is saying. "Wait.....are you dumping me?"

"I don't think it's fair to say I'm dumping you, I just don't think it makes sense to...."

"You are! You're dumping me!" I couldn't believe it. "What about the consult we had, where you promised you could have this all done before I moved? What about the two-hour extraction we went through together, on Valentine's Day no less? What about the THOUSAND DOLLARS I paid you, you son of a ......"

"There's no need to get upset. We'll cut you a check for the difference. And you knew this relationship wasn't permanent. You have a regular dentist you know."

"It was more permanent than this! You were supposed to see me through! You were supposed to do it all! The extraction, the new tooth, all of it!"

"There are perfectly good periodontists in Indiana. In fact, I know one. I just don't know what part of Indiana. I can try to look him up if...."

"I don't need you to find a periodontist for me. I can find my own periodontist, thank you very much."

"OK then. Take your chart to the front desk and they will sort it all out."

I make the slow walk of shame to the front. The receptionist takes my chart and says loudly, "Let's see, we will see you back in.....oh.....it says here no more follow-ups?"

"Nope. No more follow-ups. He's ending it. And thanks for sharing my humiliation with all the other patients here in the waiting room. The patients he still wants to see." (My voice faltered a little on this last part.)

"Well, I guess we need to write you a check for what we owe you. If you can wait, I can get him to write one now, or we can just mail it to you."

I couldn't hold the hurt in any longer. "MAIL IT!" I cry as I run from the building, knocking over a display of gingivitis informational flyers on my way out.

I came home and chewed gum with real sugar for a few hours and didn't brush at bed time.

What a way to start the weekend.