Alright, well, if yesterday's low point was assisting in the physical restraint of Screamer so that a medieval contraption could be elbowed into her mouth, today's was holding a weak, pale little Sushi in my arms post-anesthesia while she puked. But you know what? Relatively speaking, it was a cake walk. (That is, aside from the psychological agony of an unexpected 3rd hour being somehow tacked on to Sushi's operating room experience... the dentist later told us that some of the cavities were deeper than she'd thought, and that the white fillings leave no margin for error... meanwhile, because I'm a jerk I simply assume that the dentist and the hospital are in cahoots to needlessly draw out every procedure and thus earn themselves an additional hour of "O.R. time" at our literal expense) (have I mentioned that I'm a jerk?). Meanwhile the kid, I'm happy to report, uncharacteristically kept all drama to a minimum (it might have had something to do with the unprecedented number of well-intentioned lies she was told by her father and me; example: "NO, honey, of course this is not a HOSPITAL, it's a dental office that happens to share work space with the people who do boob jobs!") and shed not a single tear over being cruelly deprived food and water all morning. In fact, a mere 4 hours after she was wheeled out of the operating room, wouldn'tcha know that she was jumping up and down on our sofa firmly requesting that I replay for the millionth time the one and only episode of "Toddlers & Tiaras" she's ever seen (her sudden obsession with child exploitation is certain to yield *either* a future interest in women's studies *or* an imminent demand for a miniature Vegas showgirl getup, there's no telling which) (who are we kidding, I've already checked out the dress selection on ebay). THANK YOU to everyone for the good wishes (and, in the case of my dear friend "Paris," the very fancy Barbie dolls that were left on our doorstep!!). I would love to write more, but I just fell asleep.
Free at last, free at last, thank god almighty I am free at last. (Of the pediatric dentist.) xo.
2 comments:
I just wanted to tell you that I have felt so badly for you and the girls this week. That must have been a nightmare. Never have I been more thankful for my pediatric dentist. Office policy is that any child over the age of 3 goes back alone. Period. No flexibility. Yay! We have had six cavities filled between two kids. I must emphasize: FLOSS YOUR BABIES' TEETH, people!
Oh, you poor thing. Hang in there - it all sounds so rough on the girls, and you! The good news for the girls is (as my father always used to say when we were little): they'll grow up and forget all about it! You now need to work on getting the mental images out of your head, give them lots of fluoride rinse, and don't beat yourself up! (Damn that Dubai water!)
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