Childhood Demons Confronted

Yesterday my brave soldier had to go to the dentist.  I made him breakfast in his special bowl, sent him to brush his teeth and ironed his favourite clothes.  On the bus, I reassured him I would be waiting right outside and would go in if he needed me.  As he went in, I promised soft boiled eggs for lunch. 

Seeing that sad little soul go through the dentist’s door, I had to clutch Little Prince for comfort. 

Prince Daddy has been scared of the dentist for as long as I’ve known him.  As children we grew up in the same town and attended the same dentist.  A butcher who filled and drilled like it was going out of fashion.  He also regularly managed to chip healthy teeth which he then topped with black amalgam filling.  As a result, at age 12 Prince Daddy decided to stop going.  His mother never made him go, and over the years, the word dentist became synonymous with ogre.

At age 16, Prince Daddy hurt his teeth playing rugby (the welsh take it very seriously) and he was so scared to go, he let the nerves die and his front teeth turned grey.

At 20, Prince Daddy started dating Princess Mummy who told him regular checkups weren’t optional!  I signed him up with my new dentist and begged, bribed and threatened him into going.  The first thing the dentist did was rebuild the teeth that Prince Daddy had chipped.  He coated the grey teeth and gave Prince Daddy a white smile for the first time in years.  He did a lot of work to improve the strength of the teeth that hadn’t been cared for – and he did it on the NHS!

So Prince Daddy came out wearing his sticker and feeling very triumphant, and Princess Mummy was very proud.

Little Prince now goes to the same dentist we do, and dances in, excited to show Mr Dentist his “Ting” when he smiles.  You only get a “Ting” if you brush twice a day with the toothbrush Mr Dentist picked especially for Little Prince (and gave him freely!)  But you get a sticker every time you go. 

I’ll do everything I can to make sure Little Prince grows up comfortable with the dentist, but I think Mr Dentist has done a wealth of good in his own right.  It’s hard to get on the books of an NHS dentist.  We waited for 3 years to get a place at one surgery but then this chain opened a branch locally and took us straight on.  My particular branch and the ones I’ve seen are staffed with newly qualified Polish dentists who are happy to do the NHS work for the experience.  You get an appointment within a reasonable period (even sooner if you’re in pain)  You see the same dentist every time, and the rates are very reasonable.

But the best thing?  The “Ting!” Every time!