Deception at Sixteen

Injection

At 16, I had a novel idea.  I didn’t want to work weekends so I decided to look for a job as a professional assistant that would allow me to have freedom on the weekends.  

I have no idea why I wanted to be a dental assistant whatsoever.  I was squeamish around blood, very infrequently visited a dentist, never had a cavity and knew nothing about dentistry whatsoever.  I can only guess that I liked the professionalism of the job and found a potential job that I could do — so I gave it a whirl.  In hindsight, I think I saw job openings in the paper for assistants with experience and thought I could do this! I just need experience so I’ll ask for an opportunity to get it!

I remember sitting at our kitchen counter browsing through the phone book. I just  picked up the phone and started calling dentists.

I introduced myself and honestly stated my request. I’d like to be a dental assistant I said. Would you be interested to teach me?  At the time I did this, I do not believe there was such a thing as dental assistant training like there is today.

The first doctor I reached was Dr. Khan. He was friendly and seemed interested. He invited me in for an interview–was I excited!!!

I remember the office was small, but clean and professional. He liked me and I was satisfied that the job would be good, so we agreed to work together. The pay was also awesome. I must have deducted a logic starting point from jobs I saw advertised in the paper. It was double minimum wage. I was happy! 

Dr. Khan was from Pakistan. He was a short man — maybe five and a half feet tall. He was pleasant looking, stout, and ironically had an office in the same building my childhood physician did, so I was used to the building and location.

My first day on the job involved answering phones, pulling charts and setting up the room. I remember looking at all the foreign tools oblivious to what they were for. I was dressed in a nurses uniform and ready to learn and grow!

Within a very short amount of time, I was assisting chair side as I had wanted. I handed the doctor tools, suctioned out fluids, greeted and walked patients in and out, and I cleaned up. Not a bad job for a 16 year old. I was proud!

The majority of the patients that came to see Dr. Khan were other Pakistani immigrants, and I must say they had some of the worst teeth I had ever seen. The more I saw, the more I realized that they needed lots of work and lots of cleaning, which Dr. Khan did himself.

But that work that was done involved a lot of blood–something I wasn’t used to, but learned to cope with when it came spattering out of people’s mouths like a shower.  I had no choice–it wasn’t like I could run away in the middle of a procedure. I managed better than I ever thought I could.

Mind you, this was pre-AIDS.  (Yes, I am dating myself). Dentists weren’t worried about blood exposure back then that I was aware of.  They didn’t wear any protective masks like they started doing a few years later.

It didn’t take long once I got my footing and started to understand things that something wasn’t right.  I started to feel very uneasy coming home in blood spattered clothes each week. I also didn’t like seeing how the doctor drilled away healthy gum and even nicked people’s tongues! It started to disturb me.  A few patients were in notable pain and he didn’t seem to care.

It really started bothering me. I had a nagging feeling of distrust and dislike, but I didn’t know enough about dentistry to know if things were right or wrong.

I remember complaining bitterly to my mom that I wanted to quit as she drove me to work many times, and she just thought I wasn’t adjusting to work life and strongly urged me to continue. She was thrilled at the professional job I had landed and didn’t want me to give it up! She had rarely seen a dentist in her life, too, so she didn’t have any frame of reference either.

I argued with my mom repeatedly, but felt too guilty to quit.  I knew she would be disappointed.  I remember getting very down and out with my job. I felt stuck! If it was up to me, I would have been long gone.

Next thing the doctor did was started calling me jail bait.  I couldn’t believe it and that got my hair standing on edge. I guess he was trying to see if I would have interest in him. At the time I suspect he was in his 30s, though he looked old to me and I had no interest whatsoever! I was dating a guy at the time who had my heart without question.

One day after work and after being called jail bait, I went to McDonald’s with my boyfriend, and when a stranger winked at me at a restaurant, I lost it. I started bawling my eyes out, and my boyfriend at the time told me to quit regardless of what my mom was saying. He felt my desire to quit had merit on its own–especially after calling me jail bait, which I was too scared to tell my mom about.

He was right. I should have!

It wasn’t too long after that –that my boyfriend’s parents heard of an opening at their dental office for an assistant, kindly told me about it. I immediately applied and got the job. I was so grateful for their help.

My first day on the new job, this new and reputable dentist said to me, “I thought you had training?” He quickly realized I knew nothing!  And he was correct.

Dental instruments should be sterilized in a hot oven, but where I worked with Dr. Khan things were only put in what looked like Barbicide. The new doctor and staff who hired me were mortified at what I experienced when I told them.  I will spare you the details because it would make you spew!

Needless to say, it became readily apparent that my gut instinct that things weren’t right early on were correct.

Sadly, I didn’t add up two and two right away that the guy was a fraud. I thought he was just sloppy and unprofessional. I didn’t know licenses were required to be a dentist or I would have turned him in immediately to the health authority.  It took me several months to figure out what happened, and when I did, and went back to see if he was still practicing dentistry, and he was gone.

This experience still haunts me today.  When your gut instinct rears its head, I learned a huge lesson, never ever ignore it.  This mistake could have cost me my life. I could have contracted AIDS or Hepatitis C.  My mom didn’t hear the end of that one for years!!