Why?
Don’t know how many times I’ve been asked but I do know it’s happened at least once per day since mid-late Disco.
And today, after being on the phone with my human resources guy for over an hour and having signed all of the checks and having done the math that will generate budgets, incentives, and benefits, sometimes I wonder…why?
So way back in high school, I chose dentistry because helping folks, being an artist, and calling your own shots (no pun intended) seemed like pretty cool stuff.
The artistic aspect really appealed to me because I thought I was the next Picasso up until two years of high school where the local gangsters could draw me off the easel with one hand and scare the hell outa me with the other.
So it still amazes me when people go “yeeech” when they find out I’m a dentist. “How can you stand looking into mouths all day?” Trust me, there are way worse things.
I have an OB/GYN buddy who knew delivering babies was his calling one day and one birth into his obstetrics rotation. I can’t even imagine the wonder of bringing a new life into the world. But gastroenterology or podiatry epiphanies? You can have your butts and feet; I’ll take teeth any day.
The really odd thing about my answer to the question “Why?” is I truly didn’t know why until I was about twenty years into my career.
Why someone chooses to do something for over thirty years is a commitment for sure. Why someone chooses to risk sight, smell, hearing, and long-term relationships with chiropractors goes at least one step closer to the Twilight Zone.
As with some things, like burritos off the truck, you really don’t know what you’re getting into until that first bite. For me, the salsa surprise was dental school. Seemed like one minute I was acing organic chemistry and the next thing you know my arts and crafts abilities were being called into question. For four long years there were definitely times when I asked myself “Why?” When I considered that my parents had paid for my education rather than a house, I quit asking questions.
A few months into my rookie season here at Temple City Dental Care, my dad died. If it were possible, my mom and I got even closer. I became my mom’s health advocate and later her caregiver. My mom braved every medical indignity and embarrassment she never thought would ever happen to her…with a smile. But not everyone venturing through our healthcare system with Mom had an advocate or family or even visitors. And it seemed like just when they needed some reassurance and moral support there was none to be found. There was no family to be found.
My co-workers had become my default family away from home. When my mom died in 1999, I saw my newest hire (now my most veteran team member) seated with her husband as I delivered Mom’s eulogy. And Dalila was in the kitchen the next day helping out with the reception after the funeral. During the fourteen years that have followed, we’ve basically added family members, not employees.
So here’s the thing. I’m still a dentist because I have a serious addiction to family…and I’m not willing to let it go. If you see co-workers as family and the people you serve together as family, what could be better? And if you can make a positive difference for both just by being human, what’s more fun than that?
Twenty years ago, during the late stages of bone cancer during the inaugural ESPY Awards, basketball coach Jim Valvano delivered one of the most powerful speeches I’ve ever heard. The Valvano lines I’ll always remember are “To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is: think. You should spend some time in thought. Number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week; you're going to have something special.”
So for over 30 years, whether I knew it or not, being a dentist, being part of a team, being a friend, and being a son has given me that chance “to have something special.” Even if the dentist part is only four days a week.