The Dentist

I started thinking about writing this blog on the way to work this morning - an hour commute from my home. Our foster kids - siblings - just met almost all my extended family over the weekend. There were so many stories that seemed worth sharing. Like this one - J, the 8-year-old boy, asked my nephew Micah (of the same age), "Do you you know I'm a foster?" J seemed surprised when Micah's response was "I was too!" It was a touching moment of connection and belonging.

But - what really got me to write today was the dentist. S and J arrived to us three months ago rather unexpectedly. It was a scramble to get them from at our door with one duffle bag to settled into a new space, with a full wardrobe, stocked with age-appropriate toys, finished out of a school year, and registered for summer programs. They had a physical within the first week - that's a story for another blog - but it was obvious that a dentist visit should also happen. Our girl, 7-year-old S, has sporadically complained of tooth pain, lost three baby teeth and has at least four visible fillings.

We asked our case worker about dentist recommendations - she encouraged us to call around and see who will accept their medicaid. I tried good ol' google and found the medicaid website cumbersome, complicated, but eventually helpful enough to track down a few names in our county. One phone call yielded a "We no longer accept medicaid, but we know [this guy] does."  So I called [this guy], who was also on the the list I had developed, and left a detailed message. Weeks later, I've heard nothing and my follow-up call was answered by the machine again. Yes, machine. Not voicemail. In the meantime, our caseworker sent along a flyer for a free mobile dental clinic at a time and date when the kids were at sleep away camp for five days - the only five days my husband and I had of uninterrupted silence and conversation since the kids came - another story for another blog. So several phone calls and researching efforts later - I came up empty.

Today - I revamped my efforts. I called an office in our community that works with kids and inquired how much it would be to do an out-of-pocket exam, x-ray and cleaning. The kind women on the phone asked me about our situation then referred me to a pediatric dentist in another county that accepts medicaid - without giving me the out-of-pocket cost. I was so hopeful about the referral - 45 minutes away from our home, but worth it if they work with kids and accept medicaid - that I forgot to ask again for the amount. I called the office they referred me to and the woman put me on a brief hold before delivering the news that they are only accepting new patients up to age 5. I ask her for a referral and she gives me a monologue about how each office is different and she really can't help, but I should look up the medicaid website. Sigh.

So at this point - I'm three months and like 20 phone calls in and still haven't gotten our kids a dentist appointment with their medicaid coverage. I called back the dentist down the street. It's $245 for the exam, x-ray and hygiene visit. Per kid. Since we're not officially certified yet, we're considered a kinship placement and don't receive a stipend like certified foster parents do - in Ohio it's about $700/month/kid. Our caseworker advocated and got a $500/mo stipend for us - not per kid, just total. The past two months, that money has gone to pay for child care and summer programs. It didn't even touch food, clothes - or dental care in this case.

When I have no less than five dental offices within a few miles of my home, how is it that I can't get these kids basic care? When I have a master's degree, white privilege, and an assertive personality on my side, how is it that I can't get these kids basic care? When I have a car and am willing to drive to another county 45 minutes away? When I have an office phone, mobile phone, laptop and tablet? A flexible work schedule so I can take time out of my day to make calls and write e-mails?

Dear powers that be - we can do better for people who are poor, for kids, for families, for the sick, for those that need their teeth tended to.