Hungarian Dentist

In order not to have to go to an Hungarian dentist, I got all matter of teeth concerns taken care of before I left. My second week here while in Budapest I broke off part of a tooth. I don’t know when exactly but no pain or discomfort resulted. More then broke off. Still no pain except that awful preoccupation with a new scenario going on in my mouth that the tongue keeps wanting to check out over and over again. Because we were in the Fulbright orientation and keeping a nonstop schedule, I did nothing and said nothing. Paul from Temple University did miss one afternoon because he broke a bridge and got an appointment with an English-speaking dental specialist in Budapest. He gave me the office phone number.

The first day of classes I asked Gabi if she could recommend a dentist in Pecs, being somewhat concerned about the expertise of a dentist here, but I really didn’t want to spend three hours on the train to Budapest going and then another three hours coming back. She said yes that she had a dentist who spoke English and was good. She called for the appointment (thank god) and came to escort me to his office on Thursday at 5pm. (I need to get a picture of Gabi and her dog Rosie, a very cute pair.)

As I am want to do, I was talking nonstop (and listening), but not paying attention to where I was or much less where I was going. All of a sudden Gabi stopped at a door and said, “This is it.” It looked like a door to a New York crack house: bars, graffiti, beaten paint. She punched a numbered button and the door was unlocked. The hall looked worse. Discarded cardboard boxes piled up. Dark corridor. Gabi quickly said, “The office is nice inside.”

Sure enough another locked, metal door opened to the left and a white-robed woman, clearly a dental assistant came out to greet us. She spoke no English. Janos Lantos, the dentist, did, so Gabi left me after making the introductions. I filled out a short form in a small clean waiting room with an Hungarian edition of HOME magazine. Much laughter erupted from behind the closed office doors, and ten minutes later an attractive and well-dressed Hungarian woman emerged to retrieve her coat and leave. Dr. Lantos came out and ushered me into a white room with one dental chair where I then reclined. He immediately spotted the problem—a broken crown. I didn’t realize a crown was the problem; this would be more complicated to fix. Dr. Lantos assured me that he could repair the broken part with some filling material, but he didn’t know how long it would last. Eventually the whole crown would break. I decided to wait about getting a whole new crown. While I lay there, he jammed a metal piece around the guilty tooth and began mixing something. As I reclined with slightly bleeding gums and no anesthetic, I began to wonder if I was too trusting and naïve. These two traits have often served me well, but I have always known there would be a time…. Dr. Lantos crooked his index finger and stroked my cheek, saying, “patience.” What choice did I have.

I am happy to report I have a beautifully restored tooth. Dr. Lantos worked quickly and entertained me the fifteen minutes I was in the chair. He is quite the amusing character, and now I plan to make an appointment to get a crown. It turns out that dentistry in Hungary is very cheap, and who knew, but people from the States come to Hungary, primarily Budapest, to get their teeth worked on because it is cheaper than back home. Dr. Lantos has another office near the Austrian border where he sees many Austrians. A new crown will cost me $250 and the appointment for my beautiful white filling cost about $75. My only lingering question was if he were having an affair with his red-haired dental assistant like all the dentists were in Baton Rouge when I was growing up. He did have lovely photos of two children, so I am sure this query is more about me.