Dana L. Yeoman, DDS

Dentures and Implants

The Power of a Smile to Transcend Borders Part 21

We knew we had bitten off more than we could chew.  One hundred children in a dismal countryside orphanage to three dentists meant we could only do emergency dentistry.  The kids who were in pain were the only ones we could treat, and hopefully we could get to half of them before our two days were up.

Emergency dentistry consisted of asking a child whether or not they had a tooth ache.  If they did, then came the difficult job of convincing them that taking the tooth out would be less painful than leaving it in.  We were not about to try it against their will!  These children were not the most trusting I had ever met, particularly because for many of them the idea of a dentist was as fictional as the boogieman.  Perhaps we were as scary, too!

Removing adult teeth out of kids was a particularly awful feeling for me.  Yet so many of the teeth were rotted out with decay that they left no choice.  Everything I had learned about prevention of disease and conservation of teeth was meaningless in an orphanage that couldn’t afford to keep paper in their classrooms, good shoes on their feet, or heat the entire in the winter long.
Everything we did seemed like not enough.  It was hard to keep up morale among the Americans.  So many kids, not enough time, not enough equipment to do it well.  I found it easy to get lost in the fog of hopelessness that pervaded the orphanage.

Surprisingly, I found one thing that made me feel like I was actually making a small difference.  I discovered that several of them still had baby teeth that had not fallen out properly.  The adult tooth had grown in to its place, but pieces of the baby tooth were lodged into the gum and festering.  It hurt the children too much to remove the shards themselves.  I loved being able to numb up the gums to pop out those little teeth with ease, knowing that they would heal in a couple days and the pain would be gone.  It was actually making the children’s lives better, and I held on to that feeling to keep going.

One of the bright spots in our overnight visit was that there was an apple orchard on the grounds, from which came the best apple turnovers I have ever eaten.  Now I admit, they may have tasted wonderful.  They also may have tasted so much better than standard boiled barley and hot dogs that they seemed like they tasted wonderful.  Either way, they were my favorite food on the planet for two days.  I was glad that the children had hot apple treats every now and again to fill their tummies.

While the dentists spent their time treating kids, the rest of the team was hanging out with the administrators doing research for what we could do to make the most difference for these kids.  Their brains were counting and calculating, formulating ideas and planning.  There was no way we could just walk into this orphanage for a couple days, bringing gifts, singing songs, pulling teeth, and think we could have made a lasting change.  This was going to become a commitment that would take creativity and perseverance.

Unfortunately, we would have to go home first to regroup and re-strategize.  One young teenager had broken through his protective walls and connected with Patti Widhelm, a Bakersfield surgical assistant who joined us on this trip.  Her sweet personality had drawn him out and made a friend.  As we left the orphanage on our bus, we saw him sitting alone on a bench, his head buried in his hands, and lamenting the loss of his Patti.  This cemented our resolve to come back and continue our work, determined to let these children know that they are loved.