Monsoon Season ... in the Mojave Desert?

flooded highway  

For some reason, when I think “monsoon”, I think wet. I think of West Africa, Indonesia, Southeast Asia and India. Las Vegas never comes to mind. Yet this time of year is termed the monsoon season here and I was interested in finding out why.

A monsoon is traditionally defined as “a seasonal reversing wind accompanied by corresponding changes in precipitation.” There's some debate as to whether the North American incomplete wind reversal is technically a monsoon, but that's what the U.S. National Weather Service chooses to call it.

stop for flooded streets

It's more a seasonal change here that brings moist winds from the Gulf of Mexico and raises humidity levels, sometimes developing into dramatic desert thunderstorms that can cause flash flooding. Even when there is no rain, the season brings a rise in dry lightning storms increasing the risk of lightning striking dry trees and causing fires. We've witnessed flash flooding here. It's not pretty.

According to the National Weather Service, the wettest monsoon season since they have been keeping records was 1984 when 3.94" of rain fell. The driest was in 1944 when only a trace of rain was recorded at the official weather monitoring station at McCarran International Airport.

 

pigeon bath

 

It's early yet. So far, monsoon season has been an increase in humidity and therefore discomfort, and enough raindrops to prompt the weeds in Mary's backyard to start poking up. The pigeons have had an opportunity for a little splash in the puddles. We'll see how the season progresses, but we're hoping we'll be back to sea soon … no fear of flooding there, but monsoons … that's a different story.

Third World Dental Care in a First World Country

snoopy  

It seems my life lately has been relegated to the waiting line. I waited in the infernal DMV line to get my license and thought I'd gone to hell, but wow, the local dentist put the DMV to shame here. I'm at that age (young at heart, but full-bodied) when my old dental work is starting to deteriorate. I cracked another crown recently and had to have it repaired. We participate in a Cigna Plus dental program that offers reduced pricing on dental work, and so far this has worked quite well for us.

I was in a hurry … there's so much going on right now. David found a list of participating dentists and I chose the closest one. I called, confirmed they accepted Cigna Plus and made an appointment. I did not say it was an emergency, but I did ask for an appointment as soon as possible. I did not check references on-line. Big mistake.

I might add we've had first world medical care in third world countries … Chile, for instance, provided great medical care for David in a dire emergency situation. We've had third world medical care in a third world country. In Venezuela, the physician used crystals and aroma therapy to treat my sciatica (didn't work). We've also had third world dental care in a third world country … the dentist in Ecuador who “cleaned” our teeth with a q-tip soaked in peroxide … while she watched a soap opera. Anyhow, I was disappointed, to say the least, in the dental care recently provided and I'm on my soapbox whinging about it.

I arrived 10 minutes early for my Noon appointment as requested to fill our new patient paperwork, a ream of paper and lots of healthcare questions (laborious, but valid). A whole page required me to initial that I understood things like the fact it is possible to aspirate a crown and they'd do their best to recover it. This did not instill confidence. I refused to initial the statement that said they could charge me up to $200 if I didn't cancel an appointment within 48 hours. At 12:30, the receptionist called me up to the front desk. My dentist was leaving at 1pm and couldn't see me, but another dentist was coming in at 1pm … only another half hour. Patience is not my virtue. I was grumpy.

A little after 1pm, a dental tech called me for x-rays.

“I only need one … the one for the broken crown”, I said.

“No, you need a panoramic view, too,”, she responded firmly.

“No, I only need the one for the broken crown”, I replied.

“Step right up and put your forehead against here and …”

Whir, whir, whir … it wasn't working correctly.

Another whir, whir, whir … still not working correctly.

One more set of whir, whir, whirs and she had her panoramic view and I heard cha-ching.

She attempted to take my blood pressure three times, but the machine wasn't working.

“What's your usual BP?” I told her and she wrote it down.

She settled me into a dental chair, took the needed x-ray and put the TV on. “I don't need the TV, thanks.” She left. I got up, turned off the TV and waited. Around 1:30 pm, the dentist walked in.

“What's the matter, dear?”

“Broken crown.”

“OK”, he confirmed after a quick check. “I'll have someone talk to you about the cost of replacing it.” He was gone in a flash.

Lest it takes you as long to read this as it took me to get treatment, I'll hasten the pace.

1:35 – Review pricing and approve … $200 more than anticipated, but ...

1:40 – Unknown person walks in and turns on TV … I shut it off

1:45 – More forms to sign

1:50 – Tech takes impression by loading my mouth with goop which makes me gag and drool profusely

1:53 – Tech sticks long swab with local anesthetic on my gum and leaves

1:55 - Unknown person walks in and turns on TV … I shut it off

2:15 – Dentist administers novocaine

2:30 – Dentist checks to see if I'm numb … “Yes, in fact, it's starting to wear off already.”

2:40 – Dentist completes removing old crown and attempts to do a tooth impression for the new crown, but it doesn't come out well and he blames the tech. It needs to be done again. In the process, much goop is dripped on my face and dental bib. Goop needs to harden before they can do it again. “I'll be back shortly, dear.”

2:55 – Second attempt to get impression is “textbook perfect” says the dentist. He informs me that the tech will make me a temporary crown and then proceeds to instruct me about temporary crowns. My mouth is full of crowns … I get temporary.

3:15 – Tech returns and makes a temporary crown, glues it in place and schedules my follow-up appointment. She dawdles. I'm reclined in the dental chair. I remove my bib, sit up and get out of the chair. Let's get a move-on.

3:30 – I am reunited with David who has waited for 3-1/2 hours. We pay the bill and David notes I have goop all over the side of face.

3:45 – I return home, attempt to wipe off the goop with a wet facecloth and I find I have a bright red rash about the size of a half-dollar on the side of my face that is hot and stinging.

4:00 – A call to the dentist confirms that there is absolutely nothing he could have done to cause this. Keep a cold compress on it and if it persists, call him back (although he doesn't think there's anything they can do since it had nothing to do with them).

Well, I still have the rash on my right cheek, though it's fading. The budget will survive though I hate spending money for replacement stuff (boat or teeth). I haven't quite gotten over the 3-1/2 hour wait, but writing this blog helps relieve some of the pressure. Complaining needs an outlet. I'll put my soapbox away now. I'll wait to get my permanent crown before giving them a rave review.

Renewing My Driver's License

We are legal residents of Nevada. David's driver's license was due for renewal this month and he was able to do it on-line. Easy, painless, no waiting … $17 for four years. My license, on the other hand, is due for renewal in November, but since I won't be here in November and it's more than 30 days from the actual required renewal date, I had to go to the Nevada Department of Motor Vehicles office for renewal. Easier said, than done.  

long line at the dmv

 

The office opens at 8am, and we were advised to get there early to get near the front of the line. We arrived at 7:20 and the waiting line extended down the sidewalk, around the corner and to the back of the building. It's a big building … the line was long. The sun was high and blisteringly hot already and we were not quite prepared for the wait, like some of our fellow waiters. One woman set up lawn chairs under a tree and had a cooler full of cold water bottles. We didn't even have hats. What were we thinking?

At about 8:03, the line began to move. Our shoes had melted in place and it was hard to pick up our feet, but the excitement of moving 10 feet gave us some incentive. By 8:30, we were near the front door and at least close to the shade. A portly security officer admonished us to get into single file which, of course, made the line longer. We finally managed to get inside which put us into the next line at Information. “Everyone must visit the Information Desk” … two triage people who dispense numbers ( I was G055), give out forms. Mine was yellow and needed to be completed on both sides, but NOT signed until I was in the presence of an official DMV person. I stood at a counter, filled out the form and we found a seat within the masses of people who were already waiting for DMV services.

 

inside the dmv

 

This place is made for those who have to wait. Lots of fairly, uncomfortable, plastic, molded chairs were actually quite welcome after the long, hot wait in line. There's a snack bar for coffee and burritos, if you're interested. Several overhead monitors (some of which worked) flashed inane factoids about movie stars, the current temperature (103F) and one flashed the current numbers being served. There were H-numbers, I-numbers, J-numbers and, of course, G-numbers, among others. They flashed on a screen at the same time a computer-generated female voice said “G05 is now being served at Window 23. G05? My number was G055 … this might be a long wait. Luckily, David is a patient man and he kept me successfully entertained until at last my number was called.

 

dmv snack bar

 

The official DMV person checked my form, confirmed that I wanted to donate my organs (only after I'm done with them), did a quick vision test and had me sign and date the form in his presence. Cha...ching … that'll be $22.25. But David only paid $17.50! Next, wait in line for a photo. The no-nonsense, lack-of-humor photographer did not respond to my “good morning”. He checked the form carefully, had me sign, told me to stand in the marked box in front of the blue background and barked “get your hair out of your eyes”. Flash! “Can I see the picture?” “Already gone … you'll get your new license in the mail in the next couple of weeks …. Next!”

So two hours, a slight sunburn on my nose and $22.25 later (the premium paid for the privilege of waiting in line), I have an old license with VOID punched across it and a piece of paper which says my license is “in the mail”, and will be valid till November 2018. Just one of the joys of living (and driving) on land.

 

temp license