Did I mention I went to the dentist… in Dubai? No? Right. Sorry then, let’s catch up. What? Ah, yes. The accent. It seems I’m channelling Dr. Zahl; he’s a Dubai born, London schooled, American Dental Association Certified Prosthedontist with an accent straight from Bollywood. And he’s currently the man in my life. Sorry Mike; it’s only temporary. (he’s 64, you’re safe) Let me explain.
The showers at the ‘Ville are treacherous to climb in and out of. The ledge of the tub is about 4 inches higher than my knees. There are handles suction-cupped to the inside of the shower but the suction gives way frequently and they’re placed too high for me to see the 1/4 inch tab that switches from green to red when the suction is gone (or is it red to green?) and , well, yeah.
Those of you who know me know it was only a matter of time until I fell getting in or out of the shower. I considered boycotting the whole process but gave up on the idea after about a week. (kidding, I’m just kidding)
I am pleased with myself for shipping a set of bath rugs from home; I believe it’s what kept me from falling on the way OUT of the shower.
I’ll spare you the details lest I provide a less than suitable visual but I slipped. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t overly painful and the blood loss was minimal but the end result was a cracked molar, a broken bridge and a bruised jaw with matching bruised ego.
When I finally mentioned it at work the response was, “Yeah, people fall in these showers all the time…” Hmmm. Ok.
The suggested course of action was to fly out for dental care while the coworker I’m replacing is still in Kabul. (and can do my job in my absence)
And so after days of research (while waiting for my travel documents to be arranged) I discovered a private clinic in Dubai who responded to my e-mail inquiries in perfect English, answered no less than 16 questions in the span of three days and assured me they had room on their schedule to see me this week AND could complete the entire process inside of seven days.
I flew from Kabul to Dubai Monday; arrived 45 minutes late (because the plane left 45 minutes late because the airport gates OPENED 45 minutes late) and just 45 minutes before my Noon appointment. After an hour consultation (which included me giving an oral history of my cleft repair; they’re always intrigued by the INSIDE of my mouth) we agreed on a treatment plan and I set out to find my hotel, stow my luggage have a quick shower.
Funny side story here. The room key didn’t work. The housekeeping staff let me in. (I was too tired to ride 21 floors down and get a new key) For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why the bathroom lights shut off every 90 seconds. After switching it back on twice –while showering– I resigned myself to showering in the dark. I mentioned it to the consigliere on my way back to the dentist and he said, “The lights are activated by the room key, madame.” Ah, yes. I was JUST going to ask for a new key…
Then it was back to the dentist for… well, not torture but something close. It involved eight injections and four drill bits. (he replaced them as he wore them down) It made sense to me to leave Dubai with everything matching and in order so I ended up opting for a bit more work than just replacing the area I damaged in the fall.
I made it back to the hotel despite being so swollen and numb I was unable to speak. (I’d printed the hotel name and address and the dentist’s name and address on 3×5 cards before I left Kabul so, worst case scenario, all I had to do was point when I found a taxi. This served me well Monday night.)
You’ll pardon me if there are no photos; it’s not pretty. Trust me.
It’s Tuesday evening and I’ve had four appointments, a trip to the lab and I tonight I made my way to the Dubai Mall. But that’s a whole ‘nother story…
Make sure you floss before you go to bed tonight.
New teeth aren’t cheap.