Emergency Dental in India
The full detailed story of my traumatic, solo dental emergency in India + bonus curveballs.
12 minute read
Village of Leh in the Ladahk region.
After spending a month travelling around Europe on a bus tour with a friend, I flew to India to meet up with my parents and continue my travels with them. I had no idea what their plan was and decided I would go along with wherever my parents wanted to go.
My parent’s travel always inspired me because, from their stories and photos, their travels seemed so unique and genuinely off the beaten path. As a kid, I used to love flicking through their old photo albums, especially their African album. They are in their 60s and 70s now so travel isn’t like what it used to be for them, however, they still manage to surprise me with their adventurous and rogue travel plans.
Upon arriving in New Dehli (aka. probably my least favorite place in the whole world), I was instantly in a state of culture shock. I knew India wouldn’t be a country of comfort but nothing could really mentally prepare me for what was in store, ie. the chaos, the pollution, the homelessness, and the poor hygiene standards.
Being a 21-year-old girl with very long hair and fair skin, I was thrown straight into an environment where men of all ages, particularly older, would stare, whistle, catcall, take photos, and unfortunately on occasion, successfully or unsuccessfully touch me inappropriately. This really made my time in India much less of a holiday and more of a challenge because I had to constantly be on guard of who is around me, even in a hotel. My parents did a great job of keeping close distance in crowded public places but even that wasn’t enough to prevent a few dirty men from having a go at grazing my breast or touching my ass in an elevator.
It frustrated me at the best of times but I know it isn’t solely the individual’s fault, as (lack of) respect towards women is deeply ingrained in the culture. It’s an issue that is finally surfacing amongst the younger generations and is slowly being taught in schools, however, there is a long way to go to get to a point of equality.
One of the many spice vendors down on the sidewalks of the main street in Leh.
We spent a week in a family-orientated town called Shimla, with my Dad’s highlight being the toy train (he loves trains) where you can hang out the train doors and windows as you pass through villages, tunnels, and fields of wild-marijuana. Back to New Dehli and then on to our next stop, Leh in the Ladakh region.
The flight in itself was worth the entire journey, as the route hugged the Himalayas, with a brief moment to spot Mount Everest in the far distance. Leh was a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively. The scenery was phenomenal; a desert with snow capped mountains. The people were mostly Buddhist and extremely kind, which made me feel so much more comfortable.
We spent the next few days exploring Leh and its many temples, and waiting for my mum’s altitude sickness to ease. Next stop was a 3 day journey around the Nubra Valley by private car.
The mountainous road from valley to valley had only just reopened due to snow covering and was one direction traffic only. This road, at the time, was the scariest road I had ever been on. On one side was the mountain, in the middle the skinny, snow cleared road and on the other side a sheer drop to the bottom of the mountain. The direction of traffic would be alternated each day but despite this traffic management, we still managed to encounter a car going in the wrong direction towards us. And of course, we had to be on the side of the road where we were next to the drop below. A few slow, tight and precarious manoeuvres with the other car and we were on our way again. Although it was the scariest drive, this was equally the most spectacular, with views of the Himalayas reaching as far as the eye could see.
We reached the pass, which prides itself as the ‘highest motorable road in the world', standing at 18,380ft above sea level. There are signs advising you to only spend 30 minutes at the top, due to the lack of oxygen. It was snowing up top and, being someone easily excitable by snow, I was very ecstatic to be there. After a few photos, I [stupidly] decided to run back to the car and consequently slipped. The rock pendant on my necklace hit up at my face and directly on my front tooth. Momentarily I panicked because I had a flashbacks to all of my childhood teeth traumas. I touched my tooth and nothing seemed broken, it just stung for a few minutes.
The mountainous road to take you from Leh to the Nubra Valley.
The next few days in the Nubra Valley were epic. If you ever get to India, I would highly recommend this place. Being amongst the mountains and the desert valley was such a powerful feeling. Whilst we were there the earthquake in Kathmandu, Nepal happened. We weren’t able to feel the earthquake but it did trigger a few local landslides in the region, one of them cutting off power to the valley for a few days.
We arrived back to Leh and slowly I was starting to develop a toothache. At first, it was bearable and I was able to continue exploring Leh with my parents. Until one day it was so painful that I could barely leave the homestay. It was excruciating and obvious that I needed to get to a dentist ASAP. Thankfully it was already in my plans to return to New Dehli, finish my travels and return to Australia.
I said goodbye to my parents at Leh airport and began the solo journey back to New Dehli. Leh airport is a high-security airport, as it stands as the military base for the region. There is land tension between Pakistan, China and India. Every authoritative person in the airport is armed with a rifle and on the tarmac you can see the various military planes.
I was pretty apathetic to be there with my toothache and the frustrations of Indian men staring at me 100% of the time. I decided to sit by the exit next to a military woman with a rifle because my brain decided I would feel more relaxed there. I was resting my head for a while until all of a sudden a few people in the room started coughing frantically. Within seconds everyone in the waiting room was coughing and covering their faces. I had absolutely zero idea what was going on. People continued coughing and then they all got up and started running towards the exit, where I was sitting. Everyone started piling out of the exit, including me who still had no idea what was happening. An Indian man, desperate to get out, pushed me up against the exit door. I had to yell at him to stop. Finally I could smell what everyone else could smell, it was gas. And not just a little but A LOT of gas. At this point, my brain was thinking that I was about to experience a stampede, a terrorist attack and a chronic toothache, all at the same time… yay!
My parents, more beautiful than ever, at the Khardungla pass - 18,380ft above sea level.
In the blink of an eye we were all safely out onto the tarmac. By safely, I mean we could breathe. I was still in a state of panic because literally every single airport personnel with a rifle was on high alert and my anxious mind was waiting for the entire high security airport to blow up. That ordeal was over, I bordered the flight and slept the entire way to New Dehli, occasionally waking up from pain.
I took two trains to the hotel that we’d stayed at before, probably the only place in New Dehli I felt safe and able to relax, and organised with the hotel a taxi driver for the next day.
The next day, the lovely taxi driver took me to the international hospital and waited in the carpark for me. Upon arriving at the hospital, I was assigned with a translator. My translator was a short Indian man, probably in his 50s. He was talking to me a lot but I really wasn’t in the mood to talk, especially when he made attempts at flirting.
I had to fill out a detailed form and this is when his creepiness really began to shine. He leaned in closely and commented on every section I filled out.
When filling out full name: “That’s a pretty name”
When filling out address: “I could visit you in Australia”
When filling out phone number: “Oh that’s your phone number I could call you with?”
When filling out marital status: “Oh so you’re single?”
etc.
He continued to ‘chat me up’ whilst we waited. The dentist called my name and to my surprise, he spoke fluent English. Also, to my surprise, the translator followed me in to the dentist room even though the dentist’s English was much better than his.
Moonlike scenery in the Nubra Valley.
The dentist asked a few questions, started poking around in my mouth and soon identified that I had an infected root canal that had created a nasty abscess. He briefly explained the process that involved draining the infection, patching it up and leaving the rest for my dentist in Australia to fix.
The next segment of the whole ordeal was something similar to a dentist nightmare from an old movie, except much worse. I was injected with quite a few numbing needles and then the process began. The dentist and the assistant began speaking in their own language so I was completely unable to predict what was about to happen next.
They started surprise drilling into my tooth and instantly my tooth ache pain went from excruciating to the most intense pain I have ever felt. It was almost as if the numbing needles were duds or placebos. I was in so much pain that I was literally screaming and crying at the top of my lungs. It would’ve sounded like a murder scene from outside the room.
The translator was standing next the chair and made the situation so much worse.
"Why are you crying, I thought you said you were 21?”
"You’re being a baby!”
"It’s not that bad”
"Don’t be such a baby”
"You don’t need to cry”
"Stop crying, 21 year olds don’t cry!”
etc.
My whole body was sweating and my head was in a complete spin. I have no accurate perception of how long the dentists were working on my tooth or how long I was screaming for, but my guess is around 30 minutes.
Towering mountains that surround you in the Himalayan valleys.
That was hands down the most traumatic experience of my life.
The dentist wrote a script for some medication and sent me on my way, the translator followed. He kept trying to talk to me but I was too overwhelmed and depressed to talk to anyone. By this point I really didn’t want him with me after he had just traumatised me in the dentist’s room but I needed his help at the pharmacy in the hospital.
He helped me out with getting my scripts and then asked if I needed help getting home. I said I had a taxi driver waiting and that I would call him. I got through to the driver and went outside to wait for him, the translator followed. I told the translator I no longer need his help and that I was fine but he just wouldn’t leave.
The taxi showed up and I jumped in, the translator followed. He still kept trying to talk to me and held the taxi door open. My mind was in such an anxious state that I couldn’t process what he was saying but it was along the lines of coming with me. I started crying again and pleaded for him to go away but he wouldn’t leave. The taxi driver yelled at him to f*ck off and drove away with my door still open whilst the translator was mid-sentence.
I was crying so much in the taxi that I could barely form words. The taxi driver (bless his soul) kept asking me if the man had hurt or touched me but I could barely answer. I just cried, and cried, and cried.
We reached the hotel, the place of safety. I paid 800 rupees ($15 AUD) for the taxi driver and walked like a zombie back to my room where I continued to cry my eyes out for another two hours. I felt so depressed, so scared and so alone.
The next day was my flight back to Australia. Before my flight, I planned to meet up with my university friend at a bar who was currently living in New Dehli. I explained my whole traumatic ordeal to which he told me he lives right next to the hospital and that he would’ve arranged a place to stay, a private transfer and translator for me. Damn. At lease my experience was character building, right?
I got back on home turf and immediately got in with my dentist. I had never appreciated him so much in my life.. and I told him that. Thankfully, the Indian dentist had done the perfect job on my tooth and my dentist was successfully able to complete the rest of the job.
If there is any take away lessons I got out of this experience, it’s that dental in India is DIRT cheap, New Dehli sucks and my dentist is my new best friend.