Rachel Goes to the Dentist

So here we were. Rachel had turned four and a half and somehow, we had never made that first trip to the dentist. We had talked about it, but we had not acted.

Rachel had grown more anxious and I blame her Berenstain Bears Go To The Dentist book. In that book, Brother Bear has a cavity and the dentist pulls out Sister Bear's loose tooth. Rachel had decided no dentist was going to pull her teeth.

We just had to get this done. I scheduled her an appointment on a Tuesday. I also decided not to tell her until that Tuesday morning. There was no reason to ruin a decent Monday night's sleep. So when she got up that morning, I said, "Rachel, I have something to tell you." My wife retreated to our bathroom. I informed Rachel she was going to the dentist that afternoon. Predictably, she expressed concern the dentist would yank one or more of her teeth. I assured her the hygienist merely wanted to count her teeth and clean them.

She revisited the subject a couple of times before the appointment, but seemed much more accepting of the task ahead, as long as I would be with her. Prior to this, only monsters had brought more fear than the thought of the dentist.

When the hour of reckoning arrived, we exited the fourth floor elevator and made the long walk to the executioner's chamber, I mean the dentist, at the end of the long hallway. Despite my child's confidence there would be no books or magazines for children in the lobby, lo and behold, there were. I began to fill out the new patient paperwork, as Rachel urged me to read to her from a DisneyKids book.

She kept Honey Bear close by. Honey Bear, a stuffed bear given to her when she was born, would help get her through this. To me, this was a mild upset. If I was a betting man, I would have placed my money on Minnie Mouse.

Anyway, as I filled out the paperwork ("Has the patient ever been pregnant?" made me shudder a bit), Rachel made the rounds of the waiting room.

"I'm going to the dentist."

"How old are you Rachel?"

"4 1/2."

Rachel does not know a stranger and made several new friends that afternoon. When the hygienist called her name, to my surprise, she bolted to the chair with Honey Bear. I followed, with my still camera (see above.)

The hygienist, Joy, went to great lengths to explain what everything was, though, truth be told, Rachel knew from her books. She almost seemed excited, with the exception being the item that sucks excess water from her mouth. Adding to the excitement, she would receive two items from the dentist's treasure chest if she did really well.

She was fitted with a blue bib. So was Honey Bear. She was offered sunglasses to reduce the effect of the light in her face and being the Rock Star she sometimes calls herself, she accepted (see above).

She was given a choice of a myriad of flavors of toothpaste/fluoride and she, not surprisingly, opted for cinnamon. As I braced for the protests as her teeth were cleaned, Rachel surprised me by giggling throughout.

In the end, she had twenty teeth, no cavities and a successful first trip to the dentist. She took a ball and some lip gloss from the treasure chest, bouncing the ball into the waiting room as I checked to see what I owed.

She also received a diploma, but we had to return for a new one when we realized they spelled Rachel as Rachael. All in all, we learned the dentist is nothing to fear, at least as long as no teeth were being yanked!