It was that time of the year…. a quarterly dental cleaning. I always enjoy visiting with the dental hygienist, Jill. She’s good at her job, thorough, yet very gentle. As she approached her tools, I mentioned that my back tooth seems a bit different. I could feel that it didn’t that normal smoothness in its feel.
Upon opening my mouth, she immediately focused on that area to look. Yep! There was a deep cave-like hole. It wasn’t but a few days before that I remember biting into some delicious peanut brittle earlier in the week. Not good.
She continued with her task as a dental hygienist in my mouth, and when she was finished, she said she would ask the dentist to have a “look around.”
Dollar signs began forming in my mind as he approached the “Grand Canyon” in the area of my lower right jaw.
My husband has always shared with me that he doesn’t mind dentists, but it’s doctors he’s afraid of. When asking why, he simply said this:
A doctor can go anywhere! A dentist has to stay in your mouth.
This dentist had his tour of my mouth and found not one, but two areas that required a “crown.” They were next to each other (how convenient) as he said they both needed attention. After a conversation of what that meant, I thought I might as well get it over and done with. So, I made an appointment for the following week.
I had no idea of what to expect, but suffice it to say that the upcoming appointment would take about three hours. That surprised me, but not being in that field of learning, I had no knowledge or experience upon which to draw.
The “day arrived.” I committed the appointment and the excavation and reconstruction work to Jesus. I knew He would be there “with me,” but I needed His peace and calming balm over my emotions.
Well, after being seated in the chair, they lowered the chair at a level where you can’t escape. The assistant placed a multitude of topical all over the arena of my right lower gum. After about ten minutes, the dentist arrived with equipment in his hand. Honesty prevailing here, I was very nervous inside. I wasn’t shaking, but if a monitor was placed within me, it would register some elevated number on my “inner Richter scale.” I quietly just kept saying the name of Jesus…and asking for His peace in all of this.
We all know why we need some level of peace and reassurance when we’re in the dental chair, don’t we? When the procedure is about to begin, they ask you questions and give you directions, like “open up”, and then do their best to camouflage the needle as they approach the destination of impact. Like they all say, “you’ll just feel a prick.” Well, this guy was good. The prick #1 never hurt, nor did prick #2. As the dentist exited the room, he informed me that he’d be back in about 25 minutes to begin. He wanted the area to be nice a “numb.” So did I!
Thirty minutes later both the dentist and his assistant began the entry into my mouth with four instruments and two pair of eyes “up close and personal”. There were short bursts of rest (about twenty seconds each), and then they’d team up in my mouth again. This went on for about 50 minutes.
By this time, I was “grateful Girt” at the reprieve. About 30 minutes later, the assistant placed what seemed like the size of a hot dog and bun in my mouth, moving it around with persistent pressure. Yes, I was numb on one side, but the other side wasn’t. It was so large, that when it was placed in my mouth to take photos, it filled any vacant space available. This procedure was to document the shape of the crown.
This seemed like an odd moment for humor, but my personality couldn’t resist it. I told her what I thought the size of this measuring tool resembled…a large hot dog and bun. She burst out laughing, and so did I. We all needed a little levity at this point. I also informed her of my nickname for her….SUSIE SUCTION. I shared that I appreciated how diligent she was in suctioning out the saliva while the dentist drilled and polished the two areas. Enter the room, Mr. Dentist. He too was laughing as his assistant told him she had been given a new title!
I was told that not only would the dentist create the two required crowns for my teeth, but through the equipment in his office, the crowns would be placed on both teeth before I would leave the office.
So, after the “candid camera” event, I was left to relax in the chair for another forty-five minutes while the crowns were being designed and fabricated. I was exhausted and relieved to have my mouth closed.
It wasn’t until half of the procedure to have the two new crowns was over and I was lying in the chair reflecting on all that was happening, did I realize that I could LAUGH! A smile, crooked though it was, came across my countenance and I realized that Jesus had given me “joy and laughter”, and an ability to see the humorous points in all this.
At the end of all the work, three hours later, I shared with both the dentist and his assistant, that this party would need to end as the novocaine was beginning to wear off and I would need to go home and pop an ibuprofen and acetaminophen in my mouth to relieve some of the emerging discomfort.
All of this is to give thanks to Jesus, Who not only helped calm my nerves, but enabled me to exude laughter from my demeanor to the people attending me
THE EXPRESSION OF JOY WAS MY TRUE CROWN!
And I have Jesus to thank for that!
Cups of Cold Water 