Tag Archives: dentist

green

green
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My daughter and I are at the dental surgeon.  He goes into intricate detail about the process for the next appointment:  the gas, the needle, the pulling of four teeth, the pain after.   My daughter appears restless, then hot as she begins to remove layers, her jacket, her hoodie.  She slowly turns green.  I ask if she is okay.  She looks unsure.  I go over to where she sits.  She is clammy.

The surgeon lowers the dental chair so that she can lie prone and take it all in.

I rub her head.

 

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feb 13

feb 13
feb 13 Print

Dentist appointments for the kids.  I wait by as each child passes through this portal into the inner depths.

I had a lot of cavities growing up.  I live with the anxiety of the dentist – a man we all very much like – bearing the news that one or the other child has a cavity.

The histrionics, the drama, the fear expressed in the past over something as harmless as the flu shot – how will my kids react to this?  Plus I want them to continue to like this man, not be scared of him.  So I whisper to myself every six months as I stare at this door, a People magazine in my lap:

Please let them have no cavities.

So far so good.

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