Bloody Mess

I had met a dentist from El Salvador that was volunteering for several months at a health clinic in the village of Succotz (close to Benque). He was extremely excited at the prospect of a hygienist helping him out—to do prophylaxis and train the assistant there that did not speak any Spanish and he didn't speak any English. With my marginal Spanish, I would be able to help in many ways.

So when visiting in Benque, I have helped at the dental clinic.

None of the patients I have seen have EVER had their teeth cleaned before. Most of the people brush their teeth well so their hygiene is not all that bad. But years and years of tartar build-up take their toll as tenacious deposits cause severe periodontal disease with bone loss accompanied with bulbous and profusely bleeding gums.

In my 37 years as a hygienist, I have seen maybe 10 people over 45 years old that had never had their teeth cleaned. Back in the states, I had the benefit of an ultrasound device (like an electric, water-cooled scaler), sharp instruments, suction for all the blood and debris, and comfortable working conditions.

Not here.

It's the hot, dry season here. Temperatures in the shade have been over 110 degrees. And the 'dry' merely refers to the fact that it is not rainy season yet but it's extremely humid on top of the soaring temperatures. No one and no place has air conditioning. And without going into detail (because Katrin chastised me for 'TMI') the hormones are still 'kickin in' and hot flashes are a way of life.

From Roger's house, it's a four mile walk. I got a lift once. In any case, I arrive drenched and stay that way. I set up a portable dental chair that works rather nicely other than the hinge for the back support that gives way unannounced at least once during each person's 'session' leaving a fairly startled expression on their face despite my warning. I keep my knees under that portion of the chair to catch them from falling all the way to the floor and I've got the bruises to prove it.

People that want to be seen by the dentist arrive at 8 and wait outside under a tree. Then one of the three of us goes out and gathers names and puts them on a list. The patients tell us what they are here for...either an extraction, a filling, or a cleaning. Then they patiently wait their turn which could be into the late afternoon.

We have gloves and masks, prophy paste, and floss.

We don't have a dental lamp so we use headlamps (makes it even hotter.) There is no suction so the patients are instructed to spit all their blood and saliva into a 'community' trash can with a plastic liner. The dentist and I share the same tray so we have to take turns using the high and low speed handpieces. We don't have sharp instruments and no sharpening stones to sharpen those instruments. (I think I might do better with a kitchen fork).

Each patient is a major 'project' but there is no schedule. I can take all the time I need which is good as none of these people could be done within an hour. I have spent more than two hours on some and asked one to return another day to finish up.

The whole thing ends up a bloody mess as you might imagine. But these people are the tough Mayan variety who never complain, don't even flinch. On the contrary, when we are finished they are most grateful even though my sweat has been dripping out of my gloves onto their faces, the chair has 'dropped' twice, and they need a transfusion. There is no charge for this torture.

But their teeth are clean and they have been instructed how to care for them in the future so they might have a better chance of hanging onto them for a while. I also encourage them to get their teeth cleaned again if any other dental 'volunteers' come to the clinic, even if it's as soon as five or ten years down the road.

Roger had brought a sharpening tool from Nebraska that he had used on his tools back home. Works great on dental instruments. That, alone, has saved the day, and my hands.

God bless us all...love, tracy