A Visit To The Dentist

Due to the limited basketball courts in Montpellier, or lack there of, I have been getting some workouts done on this outdoor court located on the campus of Paul Valery University, where I am attending classes. Now these outdoor workouts haven’t been as frequent in the early going due to the less than ideal weather thus far in the south of France. But last Thursday the weather broke and I was able to get out to the court without being rained on. About halfway through, I noticed a French kid starting to shoot on the opposite hoop…thinking nothing of it I just kept on with my workout. Then about 5 minutes later the kid, who actually turned out to be an older looking dude in his mid 20’s asked me to play one on one…of course I obliged, I need to show the French ballers here who’s boss! He was actually a decent player, pretty quick and a semi-decent shot…although with a very old school, behind the head touch to it. After about 11 or 12 games had gone by with me winning 10 and giving him 2 to keep his ego partially intact, I was tired and he was VERY tired! So I told him last game before checking the ball to begin the final match. I then made a move to the basket and rose up for a layup when the next thing I feel is his elbow smashing me in my mouth and pushing my front right tooth back and chipping a few small pieces off as well as I came to discover after the fact. I hit the ground already pissed with my tooth feeling like its going to fall out and just imagining how difficult it is going to be to find a good dentist in this city…I was more mad about the fact that I was going to have to find a dentist in France than I was about my tooth being indented. Of course my initial response was to swear and curse to high heaven…this seemed to scare my French opponent as he kept repeating the phrases, “I am so sorry! I am so sorry! I do not want to fight you! I do not want trouble with you!” My intention was never to fight him or harm him in any way as this was an accident and not done on purpose…but I found his reaction very amusing and began to laugh a bit. I then gave him a pat on the back and reassured him that I was not angry at him what so ever and did not want to fight him. This got him to calm down a bit but he still kept repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” until I eventually packed my stuff and left the court in search of a dentist.
This was all I needed…a smashed in tooth with the very real possibility of the ending result being a root canal for me, and to take place in a foreign country to add to my misery! I now was on my was back to the main office for the study abroad program, here they would be able to help me find a dentist. It took me about 20 minutes to finally get to the office and my attitude was not a good one…my mouth was throbbing, I was tired, worried about this dentist, and NOT in the mood to conversate in French…this was not the time! I walk into the office(where all of the people who work there are French) and explain my situation in full detail to them in English…and like a bad movie they respond to me in French, and to make it worse is that now two of them get in on it and begin both speaking at me in French with questions and directions coming my way from both sides! Now, the fact that I may have understood most of what was being said is not the point here….the point is that when it comes to a situation regarding my health(whether it be life threatening or not) and especially when my mouth is swollen and aching…I do not want anything lost in translation. So to try and make my preference clear I began responding in English to all of their questions while adding in the occasional “What!? What did you say?” to act as if I did not understand what they were saying…and sometimes I didn’t. Ohh, but nooo, the message was not received and the French kept coming! I had had enough and finally just said, “Excuse me…In English please! I do not want to miss anything here.” “Ohh, ok. No problem” is the response I get…now wasn’t that easy enough? All the while, they called every dentist in their manifest and no one was answering the phones. This is just perfect I was thinking to myself, I’m never going to get to a dentist…they probably all went home already, I mean it was 2 o’clock on a Friday…can’t expect them to work too hard! But as luck would have it I was able to get an appointment for that day and made my way to the office…which I had some trouble finding due to the fact that it was located in an apartment building. None the less, I made it and reemerged with a prescription for Ibuprofen(didn’t think you needed one) and a diagnosis that did not include a root canal! I had also learned the family history of this French dentist, who happened to be Vietnamese and had relatives in Texas and the San Francisco…I don’t know why I remember this. All in all the experience for me was one of frustration and angst but was also pretty funny now that I look back on it. And the office workers have been very caring in the days to follow as they have checked up on me and made sure that I was ok…and yes the emails they sent me were in English.