We Got This

Seems like only yesterday, my biggest concern (outside of fixing up renegade teeth, taming fiery gums, and rearranging cockeyed dental arches) was USC Trojan football; things change. And it’s true my alma mater remains a total mess on many various levels. But even though my time spent at the dental school was more like a 4-year term at a military academy for middle schoolers (with only raw kale from Whole Foods on the menu); my passion for the Cardinal & Gold, the horse, and Conquest, has remained forever strong.

So, last year the football Trojans were mediocre at best; the year before, they stunk. The coach had to go but didn’t. And they almost hired a domestic violence enabler for the job.

But there weren’t that many sleepless football nights. Our dental practice had had a challenging 2019. We implemented a 12-month business program that turned out not being much of a fit. Our two senior team members practically missed the entire year. We were excited about a fresh start in 2020.

The last week of January, I flew off to Jamaica for an Invisalign leader conference. I hung out with top notch colleagues I enjoy as friends, was inspired by new information and new relationships, and played golf pretty much like Stevie Wonder. On Day One, Kobe died in a helicopter crash in heavy fog. Last day in Montego Bay, the 7.7 earthquake off the coast (felt like a SoCal 4.1) generated a one-foot tsunami. It was as if Mother Nature was delivering a message; something like, “Don’t get too comfortable.” I met my team members in Nashville for an amazing meeting that, since 1998, has annually inspired us to be great; we even saw Dolly live, at the historic Riemann Auditorium.

Covid-19 was a Pacific Ocean away.

Yesterday, I wore surgical gloves to Trader Joe’s. I used disinfectant wipes on doorknobs, my phone, my steering wheel, and even the packaging holding my takeout chile relleno burrito. I’m part of multiple Zoom conferences but I’ve never been the middle square (if I mention Paul Lynde, I get blank faces.) We haven’t treated a patient since March 12; I’m not sure when we’ll resume. In 44-years, my team members had never needed unemployment insurance…until now. The viral infection has an incubation period of two weeks; people can be symptom free and carry the disease. The disease can be transmitted along the lines of various degrees of separation. Only hospitals and some oral surgeons have the isolation precautions available to properly treat patients with true life threatening or excruciatingly painful dental emergencies.

I spend days at the office, mostly on the phone with banks, vendors, and webinars. I’m in communication with my co-workers on a group text, colleagues on multiple chats, and get drive-by smiles from Bill, the GOAT of Temple City postal carriers.

Being the renegade Baby Boomer dental provider that I am, I get out for walks every day (it's allowed) with realtor extraordinaire Pratima of Sotheby's, who has taught me the history of homes in Pasadena; we’re covering about 15,000 steps per day, six feet apart. Tomorrow we’re walking to the Rose Bowl, doing the three-mile lap, and heading back. I’m working on being more expressive using my elbows. Every day, it's home, office (alone), walk, home again.

And every morning I wake up wondering about my parents surviving the Great Depression, living week to week on paychecks that were far from guaranteed, and raising a family that survived every set back and thrived with love and determination. That’s what we’ll do. We got this.