My Freak Magnet = Still a Powerful Thing

Those of you who tune in regularly know that I am going through extreme dental hell. I categorize these teeth-oriented blog entries as "Me and Martin Amis," not because I'm a fabulously wealthy famous writer, but because he also had crappy teeth and went through pretty much the same thing that I'm going through. Except unlike me, Martin Amis had the means to pay for it.

As you might imagine, being stressed out 24/7 about not only my ever worsening dental problems, but also coming up with the incredible amount of money needed to pay for it, hasn't been so great for my mental state. So since I have medical insurance, I decided to bite the bullet and go see a psychiatrist. I already have an awesome therapist, but she agreed that I could probably use a little chemical helper to get me through this rather difficult period in my life.

So I went onto my insurance provider's website and got the list of approved psychiatrists. I left messages for between 10 and 15 different doctors. ONE guy bothered to return my call. Out of all those messages, only one person!!! And it's not even August!

He wasn't my first choice (I'd wanted a woman), but as nobody else could be bothered to return my call, I made an appointment. . . .

I got to his office and was immediately skeeved by how filthy it was. There was crap everywhere—you just got the feeling of chaos as soon as you walked through the door. I sat in the waiting room until his office door opened and a couple left. At least he had other clients.

He ushered me in, asked me my name, age and insurance provider. As he was doing this, he was also checking his phone, reading email and shuffling papers. He found a piece of blank sheet of paper, wrote down the pertinent information and informed me there was a $50 co-pay. I wrote him a check.

I told him what had been going on with my mouth and how it was causing me a lot of stress and depression and I thought I could use an anti-depressant. I had a couple ideas of things to try, but he quickly shot me down. Fair enough, I thought. He's the professional, after all.

He quickly diagnosed me with ADD. Um, what? I live with someone with ADD! I do not have ADD! I remember things—and if I think there's a danger I'll forget, I write it down. I have regular deadlines that I pretty much always meet. I can have a  conversation without being distracted by that shiny thing in the corner. I've also been in therapy for many years (off and on) and no other licensed professional has ever suggested this might be the case. However this guy was insistent it was ADD after meeting me for five minutes.

Whatever. I figured I'd give his drugs a try. Mistake. First of all, the pills he prescribed made pooping an impossible dream. As you might imagine, being backed up all the time makes a girl more than a little cranky. So already these things were proving to be a nightmare. Then I kept getting weird patches of goosepimples on different parts of my body. I felt like my brain was disconnected from my body. I was lethargic. My work output slowed to a crawl.

After about a week of this I decided to quit taking the pills. I didn't bother to call because I'd already scheduled an appointment for the following week anyway. So I go back to his office. I'm sitting in the waiting room and I hear, "Is anybody out there?" I take that as my cue to walk in.

"What's your name?" he asks. This really disturbed me because we had an appointment, but I told him. Up on his computer screen was an email from another patient telling him she'd quit using Celexa because it was keeping her from sleeping. Her full name and email address was there, which I'm pretty sure is a violation of some sort of confidentiality code. At least I didn't have to worry about him spilling my secrets as he had no clue who I was.

"We've met before, haven't we?" he asked. What the hell!!!???? I'd been to see him two weeks before! Didn't he have a file? Or a schedule? Or anything? "I don't keep notes," he informed me. Oh. He asked me to give him a brief re-cap of what we'd talked about last time and what he'd prescribed. I got a scolding when I told him I just quit using the drugs. "You should've called me," he admonished.

Not that he would've known who the hell I was. His previous diagnosis of ADD forgotten (and I didn't remind him), he decided that I was experiencing a situation-based depression. It dawned on him that my dental and money woes were causing me to be depressed. No shit! As I was sleeping again (that had been an issue) and I was only freaking out about the dentist, he gave me some anti-anxiety meds to take on occasion. I took the prescription and fled. I'm sure the pills will come in handy at some point, but I am never going to see this guy again. OH, and before I left, he tried to talk me into quitting my dentist and going to see his instead! Apparently his guy hooks you up with nitrous so you're high the whole time he's working.

I really thought that once I quit dating I'd quit having to worry about my freak magnet. Apparently not. It's in fine working order.

Comments

[Sherry]

Experiences and stories like yours are exactly why I say away from shrinks. Best of luck with your continuing dental woes!

[bf]

he sounds like the doctor from "running with scissors." did he have a masturbation room?

[Molly]

I know this might sound harsh, and I'm pretty ignorant about dental woes so forgive my intrusion, but would it be possible for you to get dentures or some other permanent solution to your woes? It sounds extreme, but perhaps then you wouldn't pay as much money in the long term, and wouldn't be in as much pain. I actually don't know how much dentures cost but I was just wondering whether this wouldn't be a possible solution. It sucks to read about your woes and imagine how awful it is for you. I also guess you're young for dentures but my friend's mom got dentures when she was 31 after years and years of pain and surgeries, and she was much happier afterward, so she tells me.

[Molly]

PS. Great description of the psychiatrist!
And also, I wish to protest one commenter's indiscriminate bashing of all shrinks. Incompetence is found in every profession, and while it's true that many psychiatric diagnoses are contested, many good psychologists and psychiatrists exist who are themselves critical of the diagnostic systems of their professions and use more common sense than the psychiatrist-from-hell hilariously described above.

[Judy McCrabby]

Hi Molly, there will be no dentures in my future. I'd sooner chop off my right arm.

As for you BF, I think his entire office was his "masturbation room." It certainly felt and smelled sticky and fun-kay.

[M]

Immediately call the New State Insurance Department and report the doctors who have not returned your calls. I was advised to do this by my gp when the exact same thing happened to me. Additionally, St. Vincent's has a great walking in. You can see an attending, get medication and continue to see that doctor if you like him/her.

Also, re: your dental insurance. Fight Fight Fight them anything they deny you or reimburse you the customary price. I did this. I wrote letters and fedexed them. (CC their general counsel). I ended up getting reimbursed for nearly everything. Tell them you will report them again to the NYS Insurance dept and the Attorney General.

-Maryann

[GMH]

When I was 14, I went through a terrible depression (one of many, as it would turn out). I went to Mental Health Professional #1. He was the kind who kept asking "And how does that make you feel?" Nothing was accomplished. After a few weeks, it was thought I'd do better with a woman (kinda appropro, considering I turned out to be a lesbo). The woman and I talked about how I wanted to be a dancer some day. Nothing was accomplished there either. Third guy didn't want to talk to me at all; said I was basically beyond help and all I could hope for were the soothing melodies of Prozac. I never took it. I recovered, on my own, a few weeks later. I am sure there are talented mental health professionals out there, but I have yet to meet one. One thing I will suggest is green tea. I've been drinking it a few weeks now + it's very calming/mood enhancing. Best of luck. I know dental problems suck too.

[paul]

Did you notice lots of pens, golf balls, tees, coffee cups, tee-shirts, and wads of money lying around his office with the name of the drugs he gave you on them?

[Ouch Me Too]

I am extremely sorry to hear all that you are going through. I have had some dental difficulties as well, and while I don't know what to do that could help you raise the cash for your dental expenses, (yes, I read all the entries to date) perhaps I can share with you something that completely transformed the general health of my gums, at least externally, in about two weeks. I have less pain, swelling, discomfort, odor and generally feel better all over. If you want to know if I am fit to advise you: I too have had "the talk" with each and every dentist I have seen. Apparently dentist are the only people on the planet that think it is possible to be a fat meth junkie. Joy. Anyway:
The Natural Dentist makes this product:

http://www.thenaturaldentist.com/web/products/mouthrinse/moisturizing-healthy-gums-antigingivitis-mouth-rinse.html

... which is, frankly, just this side of a miracle. A little more free advice: Avoid the "orange zest" flavor. No, really. You have been warned. The Peppermint Twist flavor is so good you want to drink it.

I have bought this at CVS, RiteAid and online at vitacost.com.

It is very inexpensive and does just what it says it does. I have been to lots of places, tried lots of things... this works. Please let me know once you have tried it for at least two weeks (it will be easy, it is nice tasting and doesn't hurt to use) and once you are suitably amazed, perhaps I can point you to another thing or two that will help. I wish you only the best.