Our driver Jose picks us up at the airport and takes us to our home for the week. He tells us he will be waiting outside the hotel lobby at 12:30 for our 1 p.m. appointment.
Like clockwork today and every day, Jose is on time. Many times, it's not just us, but other patients who are here for the first time, and others, it's their return trip. We've met Bradley from upstate New York who sings Dr. Meza's praises loudly. We met Jay and his wife from Atlanta; they ditto Bradley's sentiments. At some point, Len and I look at each other wondering if this can be true. Did we find the one dentist in the world that is almost super human? We hope so.
Driving through the streets of San Jose, we're reminded of the streets of Grenada. Very small, yet three cars are moving to get into the same lane at the same time. There are no yards, simply houses which begin at the end of the street and hidden behind steel post barriers. At one stop, we see the posts open, a car backs out, and the posts close again. There is a homeless man covered with a red blanket asleep on the sidewalk; a man pushing a wooden cart down the main road as a panel trucks skirts by missing him by inches; school children in uniforms laugh and huddle together at crossings; a man carries what looks like a dozen multi-colored pillows over his shoulder.
We enter a gated office building and pull up to the front door. It's a modern facility and we will find Meza on the second floor. We are greeted by the office manager with an electric smile; in fact, they all have these smiles. A good sign of what is to come.
We barely wait five minutes when two young doctors (whose names I can't remember or pronounce but will get before I leave) who are may be 30 at best, escort me back to the corner room overlooking a grove a palms and plants. They introduce themselves and explain what is about to happen. After a series of x-rays, we meet Dr. Meza in his Meza-green scrubs and we shake hands.
You can tell a lot about a dentist by his touch. I've always believed this and it has served me well. The more gentle, the more expert. The next 90 minutes begin with a penciled tooth drawing on a clip board - dentist school in 15 minutes he says - and he explains more about a tooth than I've ever known. And surprisingly, I understood it all. Then, we looked at the x-rays, tooth by tooth, and he went through the good and the bad. He decided what to leave alone, what needed a little work, what needed to disappear. And he made sure we understood each course of action and why he thought this would be the best. He also said that there is nothing he can give me that is stronger than what God gave me. I liked that. A conservative dentist wanting to save rather than yank it all out and start over.
I'm feeling a rush of peace. Then, I look down at his gold sneakers and I know, I've struck gold. There's something to be said about sparkle in a scary place.
He ordered a CT scan of my jaw, getting a closer look at the roots and nerves. What dentist does that? So off we go with Jose to another part of town. Zip in, zip out with a CD in hand to begin the procedures.
We arrive back around 4 p.m. They take a look and the two young doctors being their work. First up, the two back upper teeth on each side, building and forming readying them for root canals and posts.
Darkness fell on my floor-to-ceiling picture window, and around 8 p.m., we are finished. I asked if this is normal. They offered not really unless the schedule dictates. Again, I'm amazed. The entire staff was gone and only Len remained in the waiting area. It was me, two doctors and Len.
Tomorrow is the heavy lifting day as Len calls it. Surgery. Implants and extractions. The day will begin at 9 a.m.