One day I am regaling my middle school friends with a story about skiing at Mt. Snow. At one point in the story, I talk about another family that is skiing with us, the Sullivans, and in passing I mention that their dad is my dentist. I keep talking until someone interrupts me, "Whoa, wait a minute...you ski with your dentist?" They all look at me like I have three heads (like Fluffy!) and I shrug because isn't this what everyone else does? Make nice with your doctors?
I guess not.
Our first dentist-when living in Queens-I really don't remember but when we go for a teeth cleaning he lets us pick whatever music we want and of course I either go with Billy Joel or The Boss while in the chair. Later on when we move out to Suffolk, my parents pick Dr. Sullivan who they know from Cub Scouts and other school functions we attend. Going to the dentist has never felt like a chore nor has it been the least bit scary. They start me on orthodontics in the fifth grade and that lasts until late high school. From there I get a fake tooth, one cavity filled, and put under for 4 impacted wisdom teeth; none of these procedures bother me in the least.
Today I get another clean bill of health which comes as a relief because for the past year one of my bottom teeth gives off a throbbing pain at least once a week. Dr. Sullivan concludes it's from shifting and maybe a little stress (and probably a direct result from pen chewing but I neglect to tell him I still engage in this behavior). I hope my no-fear-of-the-dentist still rings true for the rest of my life. I am sure if I have to have major mouth work that may all change so I'm going to continue my brushing routine, keep on drinking lots of milk, and steer clear of chewing hard items like ice, sucking candies, and pens.
