Dr. Munk

By Al Munk DDS

Reprinted from a previous issue with permission.

All of us have worked with dental assistants during our careers. If we were lucky enough to have one while in dental school, we were in awe of their talents as their knowledge if techniques and materials far exceeded our own. Since it was still an all-male bastion during my tenure of dental education, I was also in awe of their beauty and dated a few when I had the chance. During a public health internship, IU worked in a federal prison as a dentist and have male inmates for dental assistants. These were generally large men with scars on their faces, guilty of armed robbery and murder. It was best not to get angry with these assistants unless you wanted a cleoid through your jugular. I felt no urge to date them. In the twenty-four years since graduation, I have experienced a serial monogamy of assistants whose talents have left me laughing, crying, but never bored.

EXPOSURES

My first assistant was one of my best. She had never assisted before and since I had seldom worked with one, her abilities perfectly matched my expectations. She came with me on my year-long sojourn to British Columbia as a traveling dentist, about which I have previously written. She learned the procedures easily, was quick to laugh at my jokes and always came to work since there was nowhere else to go. An assistant who does not perceive you to be the second coming of Jack Benny is one to consider for early termination. After returning to Seattle and private practice, I found that I had to hire my own assistant and embarked on that learning experience. I placed an add in the paper, got lots of calls and began the interview process, which of course, I knew nothing about. Once, after talking to about a dozen people, I called the one who seemed to be the best all-around applicant. When she showed up for work the next day, I was horrified to discover that I had called the wrong one! I was too embarrassed to ever say anything, and she ended up working for me for five years. She was very good but of course, had her quirks. During one event, I was asking for a particular instrument, something I did about a thousand times a day, when instead of handing it to me as she had done every other time, she said with an exasperated tone, “You could say Please!” This was quite a shock but changed my behavior considerably. “Suction please, Dycal please, etc.” The patients must have thought I attended a Swiss finishing school. I have had older assistants who tried to mother me. I have had younger ones who I had to father. I have had religious ones who tried to convert me. My wife has filled in more than a few times between regular assistant hirings. This is actually kind of fun but I have to be careful not to watch her while she is mixing cement. She hates it when I watch her and will kick me under the chair if I do so. She is the only one I will go in the darkroom with. If another dentist or lab sends me some flowers because I did them a favor, I always bring them home to her like it was a special purchase just for her. My assistants have always felt this is the tackiest thing in the world and constantly chide me for it. I, on the other hand, being a man, see the practical side of floral recycling. I always wondered how much the patients are aware of the clandestine events of the dental office.

My (then) assistant, Amy, is one of the more interesting staff members I have had. She was twenty-three years old at her date of hire. The first shock was that I was two years older than her father. I have always considered assistants to be my peers, not my children. Amy was very sweet and gentle and got along with other staff and patients. However, early on, I discovered she was afraid of the sight of blood. This is not the best phobia to have as a medical professional. When I would be doing surgery, sometimes the vacuum would be sucking up the patient’s ear wax as Amy would have her head pointed towards magnetic North. Another little problem she had was she was always sleepy. She would occasionally fall asleep while perched on the assistant’s chair during a long, boring root canal and come crashing down on us. This was fairly exciting, and I learned to fend her off with a left forearm before disaster struck. She had a social life that made Melrose Place look like Mr. Rogers neighborhood and kept us constantly entertained with sordid stories of young love. Despite these apparent failings, she was a good assistant and has taken a significant place in the social register of past employees of A. Munk DDS. That’s all for now from Ballard.