Break

February 13, 2011


If your dentist has his fingers in your mouth, that last thing you want him to mutter is, "Classic!"  When that happened to me on Friday morning the first thing I thought was "I hope he's not thinking of buying a classic/vintage auto based on the fees he sees looking in my mouth."  The second thing I thought was "Wake up, Vickie.  You must be having one of those dreams where your teeth fall out of your mouth.  Don't they signify that you are afraid of losing control?  Maybe I'm dreaming and my teeth really aren't falling out of my mouth.  But that can't be right.  Vickie would NEVER be anxious about losing control!"


So, it wasn't that bad.  I have, apparently, reached the age where my teeth may start breaking (from years of chewing? Will a liquid diet save the rest of them at this point?  Could I survive on hops-based or grape-based liquids?).  Sig Kendall, my hero dentist (who I called at home on Thursday night after I discovered half a tooth missing.  NOTE:  back before I was the mother of a pediatric cancer patient, I would never have called a doctor or dentist at home, especially in a case like this where there was no blood and no pain.) suggested I stop by his office at 7:45 on Friday so he could have a look and give me a temporary fix.  I countered with 7:30, so I could make a scheduled meeting.  He agreed.  By 7:50 on Friday morning, I was headed out of Sig's door on my way to my first meeting of the day and secure until next Thursday when I go back.


I turned back towards him as I departed and said, "That was quick.  You can grab a cup of coffee before you first real patient."  


But he had no patients coming in.  He had opened the office himself, turned on all the equipment, and organized his tray without any staff assistance.  Last Friday was his day off.  He was headed up towards Stephenville to deal with his place there.  All the pipes and the pump had frozen earlier in the week.  But he thought it was important to take time to come in and fix my tooth before he started the 200 miles he had to cover before he started plumbing.


This is the dentist who made a house call Erin's last week of life because one of her canine teeth was bothering her.  Have you ever heard of a dentist that makes House Calls?


This was the dentist who would sit in the floor to do Davis's and Erin's dental exams when they first started dental care at age two, because they were both a bit afraid of the chair.


Now you know why I have a dentist for a hero.