Surviving one Doctor at a time

A year ago, I made an appointment for Kate's first dental appointment. However, as the year progressed, we were faced with many unexpected medical appointments, tests, and hospital visits which led me to prioritize who we were supporting in the medical field. Since learning our family dentist charged $50 for a missed appointment (tis true), he was the first to get the boot.

We have seen many Doctors, each offering their own experience. Here are a few as the kids know them:

"The Kid Doctor". He fixed (stiched) Katie's head when she met the coffee table falling backwards off the couch almost two years ago. They always let her play with the stethoscope when visiting, and shower her with stickers and pictures to color when she leaves. Oh, and the fish in the waiting room are a hit too.

"The Ear Doctor". When Conor came home from his surgery, Kate asked, "Did Conor get new ears?" For a small fee, you can have some too. Heh.

"Dr Jesse". When Kate broke her arm last summer, Dr Jesse was the young intern in the ER that reset, cast, and made her arm feel better. He even took a few extra minutes to remove the bandaid from the bend in her arm and place it in the same place on top of her cast. It was one of the first things she noticed when she woke from the anesthesia.

"The Bone Doctor". While she was a champ in the ER, it was the trip to the Orthopaedic to remove the cast that literally left a scar an inch long on her left arm. She still shows it to whomever will listen. He is not a fan favorite.

So, alas, it was time to introduce her to the "The Teeth Doctor". Is he going to fix my teeth?" asked Kate. "No," I said. "Doctors don't always fix things. Sometimes, they just help to keep us well. The Teeth Doctor is going to count and polish your teeth!" "Just like a Princess?" she asked. "Just like a Princess," I replied (whatever that means).

When her name was called, she skipped back to the room and up into the chair. Clipped on her paper bib with excitement, and listened to the Hygenist explain what her "tools" were for. She was thrilled when she heard "The Explorer" had found twenty teeth in her mouth, and "The Mirror" didn't see any cavities. It was the sound of "The Polisher", however, that caused her to opt out of any further service.

I quickly determined the sound of the toothbrush was too familiar to another spinning sound which had traumatized her, and asked to end the adventure after polishing eight teeth. Call me what you want. I couldn't do it. We thanked "The Teeth Doctor" for his help, accepted the cool, new toothbrush he offered, and bid our good byes. As we left, Kate said, "Mom, I like the Teeth Doctor. Can we come again?"

Whew. We survived another one.