My parents are retired and live in rural Arkansas. Living on
social security and a tiny teacher’s retirement check is really tough. Getting
adequate healthcare from a combination of VA benefits and Medicare is even
tougher. And neither VA nor Medicare offers dental care. Untreated periodontal
disease is taking its toll. My mom emailed me a few weeks ago to tell me that
there was a once-a-year free dental clinic in Arkansas, and could my husband Dan
please come up and take Dad to it.
It sounded like such an ordeal for an 82-year-old guy that I
went to my local dentist to ask about
alternatives. I spent an hour talking to the staff – they searched for dental
programs and clinics in Texas and in Arkansas that he might be eligible for and came up with nothing.
Although they offered to do the work themselves on a payment plan, he needs
thousands of dollars worth of care that no one in the family can afford. So Dan
packed up the Subaru and drove north.
Last Thursday, Dan and my dad drove from Odem to Arkadelphia
to go to the clinic. It was set up at a school. The line started forming the day
before. They checked in, received armbands, and were directed to a row of hard
metal folding chairs outside. This was where they were to spend the night.
Porta-potties were provided, but if they left the line for any other reason,
their armband numbers were removed from the list and they lost their place in
line. Storms raged through Arkansas that night. Tornadoes were sighted in
several communities, accompanied by hail and floods. Dan sat with my dad all
night, both snoozing as best they could in folding chairs. Cops were there to
keep the crowd under control.
They were awakened at about 4:30 AM by the clinic staff. By this time over 600 people had lined up
hoping for dental care; many had to be turned away. As part of the first group,
my dad was shown into the school gymnasium, filled from one end to the other
with temporary dental chairs. He took a seat. The volunteer dentist asked him
which teeth were the problem. Dad pointed them out. The dentist numbed his
mouth, pulled out the five teeth, gave him a bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle
of antibiotics, and sent him on his way. He got home and went straight to bed.
Next year, if he goes back to the annual clinic, he can be
fitted with dentures or partials. They only do dentures every other year.
Two days later, on a so-called liberal Facebook group that
an acquaintance had added me to, someone posted a meme of two rustics with bad
teeth with a joke about inbreeding. When I took the group to task for making
fun of poverty, they explained that they were just making fun of poor people
who vote Republican against their best interests, and explained that there was
no excuse for such bad dental health, since ‘you can get free dental care.’ The
discussion quickly devolved to a rant about how those stupid red states should
just have to fend for themselves. I opted out of the group within the hour.
Dan says the people who ran the clinic were ‘real nice.’ I
wonder why these nice people created such a miserable and dehumanizing
experience for the people they serve. Why exactly was it necessary for a frail
82-year-old man to spend a stormy night in a metal chair? Why was it necessary
for a cop to guard him? Mission of Mercy indeed. He doesn’t need mercy. He
needs respect. The man served in Korea and Vietnam; he gave his youth and his
innocence to his country. As an old soldier, he waited patiently in line and
was grateful for what he received. Next year, my husband will drive back to
Arkansas and take him to the clinic in whatever town it is held.
God bless America.