My daughter has been patiently waiting for braces. For two years, our orthodontist and general dentist have been hoping she would lose these four stubborn baby teeth naturally. Unfortunately, her teeth didn’t cooperate the way they should.
I used to work for a dental office. I have held children’s hands through extractions and it’s never a fun experience. It can be traumatizing for the child and even more traumatizing for the parents. It’s also traumatizing for the staff and dentist. No dentist ever wants to make a child cry. I have seen the sorrow in their eyes as they hold a needle and try with all their might to calm the fear they instill in their young patients. I also know how they feel afterwards. They sneak off to their offices with shrugged shoulders and rethink their life goals. They imagine their own children.
When my daughter received the news that she needed to have those four baby teeth extracted, she was upset. She wanted to know why her body didn’t work the way it should? I told her that our bodies always try to do the right thing but sometimes they just fall off track and require a little help. That’s where doctors and dentists come in. That’s the beauty of the modern world we live in. When we play a game of cards, we deal with the cards we are dealt.
We arrive at the dental office in the early morning for the extractions. They hook her up to the nitrous oxide machine. She is full of questions. They are trying to sneak things around her and she’s demanding to know each step. She’s relying on the laughing gas to calm her nerves but honestly it was just enhancing her personality. She’s getting louder and louder, so when they inject her with the lidocaine, she starts yelling at them.
“That hurts! It’s not supposed to hurt! Are you done yet? This is over right?”
I comfort her and walk out to allow them to do their job. My youngest daughter is missing from the waiting room. I left her with my phone so she could watch a cartoon. My eyes dart around as momentary panic fills me. She’s sitting behind the desk with the receptionists, coloring and talking with them. My heart fills over with love for this office. She heard her sister yelling and started crying so the staff brought her back to sit with them.
The extractions begin and I can hear my daughter yelling throughout the entire office.
“Is that it? What tooth was it? Ahhhh! Was it my premolar? Was it my canine? Are you done? I don’t like the nitrous! I feel weird! Ahhhh!”
I’m covering my mouth as it takes everything inside of me to not rush down those halls and intervene. Then, I hear her start crying and my heart rips in two.
The dental assistant who is so very sweet, starts talking to her about how awesome braces are and that you can choose different colored bands. As many colors as you want! You can have all the colors of the rainbow in your mouth.
My daughter yells out, “Not a rainbow! A Unicorn!”
In a demented sort of humor, the entire office, myself included, stifle our laughter.
She comes out, with cotton gauze in her mouth, angry and red faced. She’s not traumatized or scared of the dentist. She’s just annoyed. By the time we arrive home, she’s asking about the ice cream I promised her and with a gleam in her eye, she wants to know how much the tooth fairy is bringing her. I love her resilience and her ability to always look on the brighter side of life.
Life isn’t always rainbows and unicorns, unless you are my daughter!
