Letter to My (old) Dentist

Dear Dr. XXXXXX,

As a child I had bad experiences with the dentist. It was painful, and scary, and I never wanted to go. When I became a teenager and could choose my own dentist, I started going to you because I heard that you were nice and fun did an excellent job. You were! I felt comfortable in your dental chair. You were warm, caring, and even funny. I won the Dentist lottery!

Life got away from me and I hadn't been to your office in over 8 years. I grew up, became a mother and for some reason started avoiding my dental visits again, but I always held my vision of you, and your practice, in high regard.

As the mother of a boy like Weston, a boy who has been an challenge since the day he was born, I have done my best to take the easy path. I know it's common knowledge that people first take their children to the Dentist at the age of 3 or 4, but he just wasn't ready. I didn't want to force the issue.

Last year at pre-school they did a lesson on the Dentist. Wes brought home a coloring book and reminded me how important it was to brush my teeth for two whole minutes twice every day. We bought The Berenstain Bear's Visit the Dentist video and we laughed at the "spit sucker" and wondered if the special brush the dentist used really did tickle your teeth.

A couple of weeks ago, I finally decided that at age 5, Weston was ready for his first Dental appointment. I immediately thought of you and called to see if you were still in town. You had moved to a new office, but I was able to find the number and I called to ask if you saw children in your practice. The receptionist assured me you did and I smiled knowing my boy would be in good hands. I told her it was Weston's fist Dental Visit. (The book Wes had bought home from pre-school described the first visit as a practice. A chance to get used to the idea of the dentist.-nothing would actually be done..it was just a warm-up. So I figured you should know.)

This morning before the appointment, Weston was a little nervous ( it's probably my fault, I was nervous too... I wanted it to go well so badly) Weston brushed his teeth and even rinsed with his special mouth wash. We drove to the office and waited patiently in your waiting room. The Dental assistant called Weston's name and he said "I'm scared". I assured him everything would be fine.

The Dental assistant was cold. She didn't smile or engage with Weston in any way, and she was annoyed when he said he didn't like the strap of the paper bib thing going around his neck. Weston jumped out of the chair and ran into an empty dental room and hid behind the chair. I ran after him and did my best to coax him out.

Then, I saw you. It was clear you didn't remember me, even though I had been there dozens of times, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt, it had been a long time and I know you see a lot of patients. I was surprised when you came into the room where Wes was hiding, and even more surprised when you said in a stern voice, "No! You cannot hide!"

Weston responded, "It's my very first visit to the Dentist."

You accusatorily asked, "Your first visit? How old are you?"

Weston replied meekly "5."

"Five!? Most kids come for the first time when they are three." I felt accused. I knew I had put it off, it was my fault he had never come before, not Weston's, and didn't you know this was his first visit??? (and, by the way, What happened to you? The past 8 years have not treated you well. You were angry and thin and..... sharp.)

I coaxed Weston into the chair by telling him you were, "just going to look" (You heard me say this) and Weston said he wanted Nana to come and sit with him. Luckily she had come along. So, I sent my mother in and went out to the waiting room where I paced back and fourth and practically held my ear to the wall to hear what was going on in there.

My mother later told me you came out with a full tray of sharp objects, forced Weston to lay in the chair and then started poking in is mouth while tears streamed down his face. At one point he bit down on a sharp instrument and it pierced his lip.

"OUCH!" he yelled.

I then heard you respond loudly "Well you aren't supposed to bite down! If you didn't bite down it would not have hurt!" He's only 5, he didn't know. Please don't blame him, and now that he's hurt, how about sympathy instead of sternness??

Now hurt and bleeding...but still sitting in your damn chair with the bib strap tightly around his neck he said, "I don't want you to put those sharp things in my mouth, it hurts and I'm scared I don't want to be here anymore."

Your response? "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do."

That was the last straw for my mother. (Thank God for her...I don't know if I would have been as strong.) My mom said, "We're done here!" She took Weston's bib off and helped him out of the chair. They came out to the waiting room and you followed after.

You looked at me, put your hands up in the air. I said, "I guess it just didn't go well". My mom took Weston out to the car while you explained to me that some Dentists would not allow a child like that to come back to their office, but that you would give him another chance.

No, Thank you.

Sincerely,

Susan Berlien

Now, I don't know how we'll ever get Weston back to any Dental office with a first time like that under our belt. I feel like a failure. I should have taken him to a pediatric Dentist. Why is that when I try so hard, I fail so miserably. I let Weston down. He deserves better. I suck!