I Need A Pedicure

We all go into sensory overload and there is definitely a point where our brains can no longer hold information so things start spurting out--I experienced just that phenomena two days ago while visiting the dentist and orthodontist.



I take the children to the dental school here where they are seen by residents. There are two good reasons for this--the first is it's cheaper and the second and more important is they can all be seen at the same time, so it cuts down on waiting and multiple trips. Monday 3 of the children needed to have cavities filled and 3 needed to have orthodontic consults. Now the downside of the dental school and having them all seen at the same time, is that I have different doctors wanting to talk to me, sometimes at the same time. Keeping it all straight becomes a challenge.



So, three are getting cavities filled and one is seeing the orthodontist. I am back and forth between hearing about tooth decay in one, soft teeth leading to cavities in the other (this from William's dentist--William now thinks, "There's nothing I can do to prevent cavities, so why brush?" ) and having Sarah Katherine's mouth detailed to me and why she needs braces. [As an aside but one many will find humorous, the dentist says she is developmentally delayed in her teeth formation--I'm so glad to know there is something she's behind in! I found great humour in this; I don't think Gretchen, the orthodontist understood my laughter] On with the children--Christopher leaves the dentist and comes over to his orthodontist. Meanwhile, Gretchen begins to lay out the cost for me--when and how much each payment is due etc. I am seeing huge dollar signs--this is an expensive month with tuitions due and now deposits for teeth. I am listening to her, but I'm also creating in my mind how I'm going to put a positive spin on this for Chris. I am now summonsed over to Christopher's orthodontist, Thomas, who is explaining the need for an expander before braces and which teeth have roots where, the need to get it started quickly and on and on--you can see I'm heading into sensory overload as we speak. To add to the confusion, the children are milling about asking random questions like, "where are we going next week?" and "do you know what I want for Christmas?" (my answer "braces!") Thomas completes his explanation and we are now talking the dollar signs--I'm feeling very weak but smiling politely and nodding my head--onto William and I'm thinking I'm in the homestretch.



William's orthodontist, whose name I cannot remember, is tall and gorgeous with piercing eyes. For me to say that, it's got to be true. I am not a woman who goes ga-ga over "gorgeous men". I didn't hang pictures of stars in my room as a teen and most of the time don't think much about it. But this time the first thought I had walking over was "he's gorgeous" and to top it off, he was funny, engaging with the children and nice. No name gorgeous orthodontist starts telling me about William's "issues" and then proceeds to tell me we have 3 options--2 good and 1 so so. I should have stopped him there. I was already filled to capacity with information and now he wants to not only give me more, but give me extra that I will later have to delete from my mind. Truly I am listening, but a) I'm thinking non stop about the money and b) I can't look him in the face--remember those piercing eyes? I turn into my soon to be teenage daughter and keep looking down--here's the brain spurt--Dr. Gorgeous is talking in detail about my son and I look up from my sandal feet and say, "I need a pedicure." I have never been one of those women who can stop a man dead in his tracks or speech, but I finally have a good idea of what that feels like. He looks at me and says, "now or later".

I would like to end there--it's such a good ending, but I couldn't stop there. I now have to continue to humiliate myself and my children--the only thing that got them to stop talking and stare incredulously was me telling Dr. Gorgeous I need a pedicure! The two good options are now re-explained to me. The first is to place 4 braces on his top and bottom teeth as holders until all of his permanent teeth are in and then move him into real braces (think double money) or put a tongue bracer in for a year to save room and do the braces in 2-3 years. I know I should have just said we'll do the tongue bracer and then crept out with the very little bit of dignity I have left intact, but no I was on a role--there was no stopping my public humiliation. I say, "I think we'll do the tongue bracer. He plays soccer and is a goalie; there's really no guarantee he'll still have his front teeth in 2-3 years." All four children are dead silent; I sign the consent form and leave with no dignity and a gorgeous man who probably thinks I'm going to knock my children's teeth out to avoid the cost of braces!