Byline: MARIE JOYCE, STAFF WRITER
NORFOLK -- There's a college student, a couple of people with disabilities, a telemarketer and some food service workers. They don't have dental insurance. They don't have money. A regular check-up seems an impossible luxury. And now the worst has happened.
They've swallowed bottles' worth of Tylenol, Motrin and Nuprin. They've rinsed with salt water and slathered on Anbesol. They've packed aching jaws in ice. One woman slept with a pillow balled up against her cheek.
``I just keep taking pills to make it go away - ibuprofen, Tylenol, BC,'' says Sheila Patterson. She works part time in food service and has no insurance. For six months, she's been chewing with the left side of her mouth.
``I just don't have the money,'' she says.
For these people, the Park Place Dental Clinic is the last resort. A free extraction of a rotted tooth will bring blessed relief.
Even that may be in jeopardy now. The clinic, started five years ago, recently lost its primary backer, Operation Smile. There's no more money to pay the doctors. Those dentists and assistants who have held on, working for free, need more volunteers and equipment.
``We had to turn a lot of them away,'' says Donna Brock, a dental assistant who recently took over running the clinic, as she looks at the 10 waiting patients. The clinic operates in a Norfolk Health Department facility that treats children during the day.
There are three chairs but two doctors tonight. With one more dentist, they could have helped about five more patients.
The clinic opens every Tuesday at 6 p.m. But on this Tuesday, you could see evidence of the need as early as 2 p.m., when people started lining up in the waiting room. Several had been turned away the previous week.
When Operation Smile ran the program, it had one staff member who kept an appointment book. The waiting list was 1,000 names and two years long.
The volunteers now can't afford that, so they're trying other systems. The previous week, an altercation broke out, and police had to be called. Starting this week, the clinic will begin a Monday morning call-in period for appointments.
So far, Brock says, she's gotten little response to pleas for help. Several Navy doctors and assistants have signed on, and one doctor volunteered after her mother heard about the clinic on television.
By about 6:15, dentist Robert W. Howell, another doctor, and several volunteer assistants are hard at work. From three offices come the sound of suction, the clattering of instruments, the faint cracking of rotted teeth and, occasionally, a yelp as syringe pierces gum.
``I took out 39 last Tuesday,'' says Howell. ``My record is 23 teeth on one patient.'' That's rare, but it's not uncommon to have someone who needs eight extracted.
Before he starts on a patient, he carefully pulls extra-small gloves onto his too-big hands. That's all they've got.
Unfortunately, Howell says, the acidity of a bad infection weakens the anesthetic.
His patient, Frances White, clutches an armrest.
In another room, Dr. Frederick E. Martin reaches into Sheila Patterson's mouth with forceps that are not the right size. The instrument's jaws aren't wide enough to get a good grip on the wisdom tooth. He can't tell if the movement he feels is the tooth giving way or the forceps sliding around on the tooth.
On a previous patient, he ran into trouble because he didn't have a good idea what to expect. In his private office, he would have X-rayed the tooth. But that's expensive, and the clinic seldom does it.
So when he started pulling, the tooth came out, but one of the roots stayed behind. He had to go in after it.
The clinic previously offered other dental services and operated three nights a week. Now, they focus exclusively on extractions.
This is bad news to Ramell Patrick, a college student working a summer job. One of his fillings fell out. He can't wait until fall when he goes back on ODU's student health insurance. But he's not sure he wants to lose a tooth, either.
``I had my wisdom teeth out in high school. Man, that is the worst pain,'' he says.
With that, the woman sitting next to him starts as if she's been jabbed with a pin. She's there to get a wisdom tooth out.
When Patrick gets his turn, Howell looks at the deep cavity. He hesitates, then says, ``If you really want that fixed, I can see you in my private practice,'' he says.
``How much would it cost?'' asks Patrick.
``Twenty-five,'' says Howell. That's a lot less than he normally charges.
``Can I come in tomorrow?''
The decision to withdraw from the clinic was a hard one for Operation Smile's leaders, said Thomas G. Fox, chief executive officer.
The program was started with fanfare. Several agencies and schools pitched in to help.
But some of the partners have dropped out. A federal grant that provided much of the funding disappeared.
Operation Smile, which does reconstructive surgery on poor children here and around the world, had to think about its primary clientele, said Fox.
Fair or unfair, most people want to donate money to help poor children, not poor adults, Fox said.
``Our donors don't see Operation Smile as an adult dental charity,'' he said. The charity estimates it spent about $111,000 on the clinic over the past 2 1/2 years.
``Obviously, children are the least able to protect themselves,'' he said. ``As a society, we seem to respond to that more.''
The highly publicized millions from computer entrepreneurs Bill Gates and Charles B. Wang were earmarked specifically for a program in China, he said.
``If Bill Gates wanted to run the clinic in Norfolk, that's what he would have given the money for,'' said Fox. ``There's very few donors who say, `Gosh, you're doing a great job. Here's a thousand dollars. Go do good.' ''
On this Tuesday night, about 90 minutes after they started, there are just three patients left. One has just lost a tooth. One is waiting in a chair for the anesthesia to take. The third, an elderly woman, is slowly working her way down the hallway with the help of a walker and a young woman who came with her.
That's when the lights go out. A big storm has knocked out power to the neighborhood.
The patient who just had the extraction gets her sutures done under a flashlight. But the other two will have to wait until next week.
Most of the patients who visit are too scared and sore to talk about gratitude - even if you could understand what they say through swollen cheeks and packs of gauze.
But Tracy Shines, the patient who got the anesthesia, and who now can't get her tooth pulled, envies them. She got turned away the week before, when the list was too long. When the lights went out, she says, she prayed they'd come back on.
``The pain was so excruciating. I just wanted it out.''
CAPTION(S):
Color photo by BETH BERGMAN-NAKAMURA/The Virginian-Pilot
Volunteer dentist Robert W. Howell, left, performs an extraction on a patient, Frances White of Norfolk, at the Park Place Dental Clinic. Dental assistant Toby Dingle assists Howell.
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THE CLINIC
The Park Place Dental Clinic needs dentists, dental assistants and instruments. To help, call Donna Brock at 483-5663.
Appointments for each Tuesday evening are made on the Monday before, from 10 a.m. to noon. Call 683-9240.
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