Getting Real With Wanda Morrissey

“Jeffrey has a cavity.  You’ll need to make an appointment to get that filled.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d just taken my son to the dentist for the first time and I was not expecting him to have a cavity.  How does a 3 year old get a cavity? Sure, he gets treats now and then but I make sure his teeth are well taken care of.

After I got over the shock of Jeffrey having a cavity, the dentist says that he asks that both parents be present when he gets the filling. Why?  Because they don’t give children that young any kind of freezing and they may need both parents to hold down/calm the child! I didn’t know this and was horrified by it. Already, I was imagining my toddler screaming in pain and fear as the dentist laughed maniacally over him. I asked about nitrous oxide (laughing gas). No, he’s too young. I asked if there was any kind of extra strength Anbesol that could be rubbed on the gums first. No, there wasn’t. I knew I was grasping at straws but I couldn’t get the picture of my screaming son out of my head. The dentist assured me that it was only a tiny surface cavity and that my son wouldn’t feel any pain but I didn’t believe him.

The appointment was set for two weeks later and I spent those weeks imagining the most horrible things possible. I had visions of the dentist practicing medieval torture techniques on Jeffrey and recruiting me as his accomplice. I had visions of Jeffrey desperately trying to get out of the chair and me having to hold him down. I pictured him clinging to me crying. I imagined him so mad at me for making him go through that, that he wouldn’t come near me. I don’t know how many times I almost cancelled the appointment but didn’t – I knew the cavity had to be filled. I had myself so worked up that I wasn’t sleeping.

The day of the appointment arrived and I was in full panic mode. I was ready to grab Jeffrey and run if there was so much as a hint of a tear.  My husband and I put in the chair and stood by his feet. The dentist sat down beside him and showed him every tool he was going to use.  He let Jeffrey listen to the sound of the drill and play with the thing that squirts water. He gave Jeffrey one of the small mirrors to play with, which Jeffrey tried to use to look up his nose, while he worked. It was over in less than 15 minutes and Jeffrey hadn’t flinched once.  We had to keep reminding him to open his mouth wide and we had to sit him down once when he wanted to get up and explore but there was no screaming and crying like I’d imagined. All that panic and worry for nothing.

But at least I can say that Jeffrey behaved better than I did when visiting the dentist. When my parents took me for my first check-up at age three, I bit the dentist as hard as I could.