The first few years of dental practice for a new graduate can be exciting, challenging and a bit daunting. For me it was no different. I began my career as a dental intern in a teaching hospital in Toronto. I was fortunate to be able to spend a month in rotation to several specialized units of the hospital including assisting an oral and maxillofacial surgeon regularly in the operating room. The highlight of the year was flying to a remote Indigenous community north of Lake Superior with portable dental equipment and a suitcase of supplies. My make-shift operatory was set up in the laundry room of the nursing station with little more than a stool, a pole lamp, a non-adjustable patient’s chair similar to a lawn chair, no radiation equipment an an untrained helper who spoke Ojibway and only a little English.
A subsequent move to Alberta because of my husband’s work introduced me to hiking in the mountains, canoeing on local lakes and skiing and snowshoeing galore. My choice was clear, it would be a rural dental practice for me.
There was an immediate need for my services in Manning and I was busy from day one.
After working in Calgary for less than a year, my husband and I made a scouting trip around northern Alberta and in 1983, we settled on the town of Manning. My husband was able to work and commute to Peace River and I felt that Manning was in need because the area had been without a dentist for over a year.
Sitting at my kitchen table in Calgary, I proceeded to order all of the necessary dental equipment and make lists of every sundrie and supply that I would require. One huge order was placed with my dental supply company, which was at that time Ash Temple Ltd. (later purchased by Henry Schein) and everything was shipped up north.
There was an immediate need for my services in Manning and I was busy from day one. Two registered dental assistants were available locally as well as an excellent front desk person who had past on-the-job training. I arranged the lease of my premises which was half of a building beside the local hospital, shared with the resident family physicians. Life was good and I was busy five and sometimes five and a half days per week. My office was a short walk away allowing me to go home for lunch quite often.
The local farmers and town’s people made wonderful patients and often asked “what do I owe you” even before arriving at the front desk. Many thanked me with gifts such as tomatoes, potatoes and flowers from their garden and even moose teeth from their hunt. Many stories were shared. Also, a surprising number of patients had a dental plan.
The closest dental specialist was an orthodontist in Grande Prairie, over 250 km away. Traveling to Edmonton for other dental specialists was, indeed, often a challenge for my patients, but a fair number regularly drove for their ortho appointments to Grande Prairie and combined it with shopping or other reasons for going. From my experience, there was very little difference in dental knowledge and awareness between these rural people and those that I had met in practice in Calgary and Toronto. It is true that I would meet my patients around town in local stores but that was a wonderful change for me compared to the aloofness and anonymity that many desire in big cities. My rural practice gave me everything I had wanted.
However, change is always inevitable, and four years into my five-year lease, the owner of the medical building passed away leaving the building to his wife, who promptly moved to Australia which necessitated the physicians to relocate. The building was to be vacated and I was able to let my patients know well ahead of time that I would be completing their treatment that I had started but that I was unsure where I would be.
Thirty-three years later, I am still here, now seeing the grandchildren of many of my original patients, still walking to work, still visiting with my patients around town, still gardening and still enjoying every day.
My husband’s work at that point took us to Grande Prairie and, once again, we scouted out the area and saw that Beaverlodge needed a dentist as the town had been without a dentist for two or three years. My years in Manning had allowed me to pay off my student loans and to seriously consider that I could afford to buy a vacant lot on the Main Street of Beaverlodge and have my own building built.
Plans were drawn up for a building that would suit Beaverlodge — a Norwegian-style log chalet, inspired by a log builder that we had met in Lacombe, Alberta and the people of the local town of Valhalla Centre. Construction started in the fall of 1989 and six months later, in March 1990, I opened my newly-built dental office.
Once again, I was able to walk to work, occasionally go home for lunch, grocery shop and go to the bank, pharmacy and hardware stores all within a few blocks of each other. I was busy from even before my first day this time, having set up a dedicated phone number for my office several months before I even opened the doors. This time there were no registered dental assistants available but the NAIT dental assisting independent study program came to my rescue and I was able to train good people on the job. Yes, it was a bit stressful but I knew that the end result would be worth it.
Thirty-three years later, I am still here, now seeing the grandchildren of many of my original patients, still walking to work, still visiting with my patients around town, still gardening and still enjoying every day.
Strong bonds are created in small towns with not only patients but with staff too. The icing on the cake for me occurred just around the time when COVID struck – to my delight, my chair-side assistant who had worked with me in Manning nearly 40 years earlier gave me a call. We had kept in touch for decades because she had become a friend and I wanted to hear about her son who had been born while working for me in the 1980’s. After Manning, she moved to Grande Prairie and worked with the same dentist for many years. When he retired, she called me and asked if she could work for me as she was not yet ready to retire — it seems that years of rural practice kind of get in your blood.
My answer was a resounding, “YES!”
— Dr. Carol A. L. Martin, B. Sc., D.D.S.
This article appeared in the May/June 2023 edition of the ADA Connection magazine.
