This ordeal started a few weeks back when his regular dentist asked if it was OK to take a full mouth scan. How do you answer a question like that? Do they think I'm going to say "No"? If it were for me, I probably would, or at least I might haggle about the price. But it's different when it's one of the kids. So, they took the scan and, lo and behold, it showed four impacted wisdom teeth. Like most dentists I guess, they wouldn't remove them. I instead had to bring him to an oral surgeon. This meant checking with my insurance company.
Checking with my insurance company is always an ordeal. I wouldn't mind it as much if I could at least get a consistent answer as to what's covered. Talking to three different people yielded three different answers. I'm pretty sure nothing before the first two thousand dollars is covered, but not to worry- it "gets applied toward his deductible" (as long as it's an in network doctor and I have a referral, etc, etc, etc.), which is another way of saying you're not covered. And even if you were, they definitely will not cover "extras" like anesthesia. He has four impacted wisdom teeth- three that haven't broken through the gums, and the insurance company considers anesthesia an "extra"? Well, you have to play the cards you're dealt- no mater how the deck is stacked. So, we made an appointment at the closest in-network oral surgeon- a mere 40 miles away- not bad if you live in Alaska, which we don't.
Sam and I drove down for the initial consultation last Friday. We got there about a half hour early, which was a good thing since it took all of that to initial, sign and date the reams of policies and disclaimers they handed me. This reminded me of years ago when Helaina was an infant and she had to get her first vaccinations. They made me read and sign paperwork that gave every possible consequence of going through with the vaccination (which is required by law), up to, and including, death. The paperwork I signed off on on Friday left out "death", but that's about all they left out.
After signing off on the papers for half an hour, they made Sam and I watch a "short" video in a room the size of a closet. A small closet. Above the TV screen was a poorly printed out sign that said that taking videos "even with a cell phone" in their office is against their policy, and is "strictly forbidden". This seemed odd to me. It never would have occurred to me to take a video before reading this sign. Now, even though I had no clue as to why someone would want to, I was wondering why they wouldn't allow it. It made me uncomfortable. I was tempted to take a photo of the sign, but figured this could be too easily misconstrued and while not technically a video, it might get us kicked out. Anyway, all of this went out the window once their video started up.
Their video was done in the same format as the movie they make you watch when you have jury duty. The jury duty video has two actors: one actor plays Knowledgeable Judge, the other plays Ignorant Citizen. Ignorant Citizen asks ignorant questions and the judge politely and calmly scoffs and informs the Citizen. In the version we watched in the Doctor's closet, one actor played Knowledgeable Oral Surgeon, the other actor played Ignorant Patient (i.e.: Us). Otherwise, the format was identical. Basically, the only point of this video seemed to be to reiterate all of the awful things I had just signed off on, except this was presented in a video format. Even more disturbing was that the guy playing the Oral Surgeon is the guy from the Toyota commercials. Is this ethical? They couldn't get an actual doctor to commit to the stuff this guy was saying? Sam sat watching and listening with that frozen grimace he gets when he's stressed out. Even I couldn't find things to make light of in that video. At least they weren't shoving a camera down the patient's mouth.
From there, we met the doctor. He showed us the x-rays Sam's dentist had sent down and talked for a few minutes, but all I, and I'm pretty sure Sam, could think about, was that video.
Next, we went to make the appointment for the removal. I sat down with the bookkeeper to go through yet more paperwork, including once again going over my insurance and what was, or more likely, wasn't covered. This woman was the only non-cheery person in the office. When I told her who I had for insurance, she just rolled her eyes. The first opening they had was for the day after Christmas (today). We left with prescriptions to be filled and taken before his next visit.
Today, we drove down again, making better time than we had last Friday. By the time we got there, Sam was getting pretty groggy from the medication he had taken before we left. We took a seat in the small waiting room- and waited. The time for his appointment came and went, and Sam rested his head on my shoulder as the medicine continued to kick in. More time passed. I had visions of them asking us to come back another time and Sam having to go through this all over again. But finally, they came to get him, and stopped me from following him into the doctor's office. I hadn't expected, nor wanted to watch. But I had expected to be there for him when it came time for him to get the I.V. I knew he was pretty nervous about this part of it, being all too familiar with I.V.'s from his many MRIs. But they wouldn't let me in. It must be another one of their policies.
Sam was in with the surgeon for about an hour, after which he slept in a chair. Finally, when he was able to at least barely keep his eyes open and he could kind of, sort of, stand, we headed out to the van- me supporting Sam as best as I could. From there it was the 40 mile ride home.
Sam was in a lot of pain this afternoon. He rarely complains about things like this, but when he says things to himself like "I wish I never had this swelling", and dabs his teary eyes with a stuffed animal in a way you're not supposed to notice, you know it's pretty bad for him. And the swelling is much worse than I saw with his sisters, but of course I wouldn't say that to him. Instead I tried to play up the ice cream and Popsicles, for whatever that was worth. And I gave him a game and a stuffed animal that he didn't get for Christmas, as a reward and a distraction. He did great, all things considered. Even the twenty minutes on/ twenty minutes off with the ice packs were taken in stride.
Tonight, about an hour or so before bedtime, Sam got sick to his stomach. This was just to make the day even more grueling for him. He's tired and medicated as much as they'll allow, and now he's finally sleeping.So, I can't say that it went well today. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to.
