Saturday, July 15, 2006
Impacted by Wisdom teeth
"I told you a year back and am telling you again. You have four impacted wisdom teeth and you need to get them out at the earliest", said my dentist. "In fact, one of those teeth is so badly impacted that you need to not only get it removed but have a crown lengthening performed by a periodontal surgeon so that the molar next to it can be saved".
Sounded pretty serious. Maybe I should do something after all, I said to myself. After all, if the idea of losing a molar doesn't spur you to act, what will?
So, I set up an appointment with the periodontal surgeon. From the time I entered the clinic, I felt like I was at a Toyota dealership to buy a used Camry. The sales guy was replaced by a doctor in a coat. And instead of trying to sell options in the car, he was trying to sell all the various services available to those who desired a better looking smile, i.e. putting a smile on every customer's face, literally.
"No, just the impacted teeth and crown lengthening please", I said. It turned out the total cost of following my dentist's orders to the "t", would be $2800. I thanked the surgeon and his staff and left, saying I would get back to them.
"$2800 is close enough to $3100", I told myself. So what, I hear you ask. Well, $3100 is the amount that AID Dallas the group I am part of, sent towards the Srikakulam Integrated Development Project in a cluster of villages on the border of Andhra Pradesh and Orissa.
The $3100 that we raised and sent enabled 500 households get electricity connections. It in part, supported a part of a library program where hundreds of children could spend their spare time reading stories, comics and educational material. It allowed our partners on the ground to educate people about their right to earn 100 days of employment according to a new goverment legislation. We also heard about some delightful personal stories from our partners on the ground - like how one of the village co-ordinators learnt how to ride a bicycle to enable her to get around quicker as she went about her work.
And then there was the Nirupedalu program, where a list of the poorest of the poor in the village was made. These were those who could not even afford two meals a day. Not to be deterred in the face of this grim reality, the villagers arrived at a simple solution by consensus - those with a surplus would put a small amount of rice/dal in an "excess bag" and every so often share the bag with their neighbours and friends in the village who needed it more than them.
In comparison, my endangered molar and the hoopla around saving it seemed cosmetic and a world away, literally and figuratively. So, I've decided to have my sister's dentist friend take care of it when I go to India in October for a nominal fee. And if it doesn't make it till then, I am sure I can make do with what I have.
Now remains one more small matter. To minimize the impact of my wisdom tooth removal, all I need to remember is to put away $2800 in my "excess bag".
Sounded pretty serious. Maybe I should do something after all, I said to myself. After all, if the idea of losing a molar doesn't spur you to act, what will?
So, I set up an appointment with the periodontal surgeon. From the time I entered the clinic, I felt like I was at a Toyota dealership to buy a used Camry. The sales guy was replaced by a doctor in a coat. And instead of trying to sell options in the car, he was trying to sell all the various services available to those who desired a better looking smile, i.e. putting a smile on every customer's face, literally.
"No, just the impacted teeth and crown lengthening please", I said. It turned out the total cost of following my dentist's orders to the "t", would be $2800. I thanked the surgeon and his staff and left, saying I would get back to them.
"$2800 is close enough to $3100", I told myself. So what, I hear you ask. Well, $3100 is the amount that AID Dallas the group I am part of, sent towards the Srikakulam Integrated Development Project in a cluster of villages on the border of Andhra Pradesh and Orissa.
The $3100 that we raised and sent enabled 500 households get electricity connections. It in part, supported a part of a library program where hundreds of children could spend their spare time reading stories, comics and educational material. It allowed our partners on the ground to educate people about their right to earn 100 days of employment according to a new goverment legislation. We also heard about some delightful personal stories from our partners on the ground - like how one of the village co-ordinators learnt how to ride a bicycle to enable her to get around quicker as she went about her work.
And then there was the Nirupedalu program, where a list of the poorest of the poor in the village was made. These were those who could not even afford two meals a day. Not to be deterred in the face of this grim reality, the villagers arrived at a simple solution by consensus - those with a surplus would put a small amount of rice/dal in an "excess bag" and every so often share the bag with their neighbours and friends in the village who needed it more than them.
In comparison, my endangered molar and the hoopla around saving it seemed cosmetic and a world away, literally and figuratively. So, I've decided to have my sister's dentist friend take care of it when I go to India in October for a nominal fee. And if it doesn't make it till then, I am sure I can make do with what I have.
Now remains one more small matter. To minimize the impact of my wisdom tooth removal, all I need to remember is to put away $2800 in my "excess bag".
