Just Give Me a Sign
There was a time, about three years ago now, when we had a sign. It was a simple sign. Just hold up your index finger. We needed the sign because Ping and Cici often couldn't understand me because I spoke too quickly for them to follow me. We don't need the sign for that purpose any more, but we discovered that we still need a sign.
This discovery came on Saturday. We had been to lunch at the Classic Kitchen in Chinatown. Ping really likes this restaurant because it serves some of her favorite Chinese foods. Cici likes it as well. It isn't my favorite place but I go there for the girls.
This restaurant is just two doors away from our family dentist. We stopped in to make an appointment to get Cici's tooth checked, and Ping told the receptionist about the soreness in Cici's mouth from the mango allergy. Within a few minutes we were told that the dentist would see us immediately even though the waiting room had a number of people in it.
We were ushered into a room and Cici sat in the patient chair. A man we hadn't seen before came in and introduced himself. He was a Western man instead of being the Chinese dentist who we know and trust. A young Chinese dental assistant was with him. Let me check your mouth, he told Cici. Oh yes, he said, we need to clean under the gum because something is stuck there and it is irritating the gum.
He swung into action, telling the dental assistant what he needed while he put a q-tip with some numbing solution on it in Cici's mouth between the gum above her front teeth and her upper lip. Then we saw a huge needle and he said he would give her a shot so that she wouldn't feel the pain of the work he needed to do. Cici tried to speak but had difficulty with the q-tip in her mouth. The Chinese dental assistant told the dentist and me that Cici was scared of the needle, so we both tried to reassure her. It was clear that Cici still had an issue with what was happening, so Ping spoke with the Chinese dental assistant in Chinese.
Now the Western dentist was becoming impatient, listening to all the Chinese talk. Cici was waving her hand at what was being said by the Chinese dental assistant, which the dentist and I understood to mean that she was still scared of the shot. We tried again to reassure her but Ping left the room and came back with a different Chinese dental assistant. Ping asked the new Chinese dental assistant to tell the dentist what Cici wanted to know.
It turned out that the first Chinese dental assistant was telling the dentist and me something completely different than what Cici was asking. Her question was whether the procedure was necessary at all; whether her mouth would heal naturally or would get worse without the work that the dentist wanted to do. Armed with this new information, the dentist told Cici that he definitely needed to do the work or her mouth would continue to get worse.
At this point Cici didn't protest when she saw the needle. The shot was given, the work was done, and we left, but I could tell that Cici and Ping were still somewhat upset about something. Cici's mouth was numb so I didn't press the issue. When we got home, both Ping and Cici took a nap.
When evening came and the girls were awake and Cici's mouth was no longer numb, we gathered in the living room to talk. As the story unfolded, I learned that Cici had asked the first dental assistant the same question that Ping asked the second dental assistant; that is, whether the procedure was necessary at all. She had never mentioned any concern about the shot, and in fact had no concern about the shot. She was frustrated that she could not speak, and in her anxiety she didn't think about speaking in English. She was waving her hand trying to tell me that no one was understanding her.
So we decided to use the same sign in the future, but now the raised index finger will be used when Ping or Cici believe that I don't understand something they are trying to communicate to me. If you were to do that in the same circumstance that we just went through, I would stop everything, take the q-tip out of your mouth, and wait for you to explain yourself, I told Cici.
So we hope we have solved the problem. Cici and I both felt helpless when the incident happened. Ping felt frustrated because she couldn't help either. Maybe our simple little sign will save the day sometime. It at least made the three of us feel better to know we have the sign in place. Next up is a discussion with our Chinese dentist. Either you are our dentist or you are not; don't send in a stranger to see one of us.
I don't see any problem with the dentist. The problem I see is that no one bothered to even consider what the patient had to say, rather than guessing what the problem was.
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