As a follow up to our recent dental spelunking in the eroded caves of Isaac’s teeth, we went to his regular dentist on Monday. There I told chapter and verse of what happened and, while “Dr. John” was very professional about it, his reaction was basically, “there’s no way in hell it should take three hours to do a pulpectomy, even on a screaming and kicking four-year-old.” He was appalled… I wonder whether after I left he called that lady up and asked her some pointed questions about her technique. He said, “I do that procedure all the time on kids Isaac’s age, and it takes 45 minutes at most.”
(One parent we know sums up his entire philosophy of fatherhood as “speed and confidence.” I think that’s what the lady seemed to lack, although her office was very festive and cheerful…)
Also, Dr. John pretty near refused to explore with me exactly WHY Isaac has been thus afflicted. I came armed with a series of possibilities. Was it a) prematurity (the teeth form in the last trimester of pregnancy; some studies show about 50% of premature babies have defective tooth enamel; Isaac’s anemia has been really bad and it was caused by his premature birth, even though he was only a month early); or b) lead exposure between 8 months and one year old, right as the teeth were poised to erupt (lead sucks the calcium out of tooth enamel before tooth eruption and that’s exactly when Isaac’s exposure was off the charts); or c) that we have been filtering the Floride out of our water along with the chlorine and heavy metals? Or d) That he lives on candy and Kool-Aid and no one cares about his teeth and we’re bad parents, especially me?
Well, of all these (and really, let’s be honest, I wanted proof of A-C such that I could secretly rule out D in my own mind), the lead idea was the only one that Dr. John thought held any water. He said that really can be bad, and that it remains to be seen whether, if that’s what happened, it will go on to be a problem for Isaac’s permanent teeth. But he didn’t seem to care too much about any of the other possible explanations. He said very clearly, “You didn’t do anything to cause this. And also it’s not that uncommon. I mean, I see it every day.”
I pressed, “Okay, but, well, what I can do differently so that it doesn’t happen to this one?” (Indicating Elias, who, you will not be surprised to learn, was nursing at the time.)
He said, “Nothing. Because you didn’t DO anything wrong or anything to cause this at all.”
I felt as if he were prodding a raw nerve of my own by telling me this, even though it was actually a comforting message. I had to look away and load Elias into his car seat in order to avoid losing my composure. Later I asked, “Should we start having check-ups more often, like say quarterly instead of every six months?” And he basically burst out laughing. He said, “You remind of this other lady who was in here. She was so upset I think she would have come in WEEKLY if I would’ve let her. No. Seriously. Just come every six months.”
Then he really finally silenced my fears with this remark: “Look, I’m a pediatric dentist and MY OWN SON had the exact same thing as Isaac. My daughter had no cavities whatsoever. I didn’t do anything either way. It just was like that.”
I took great solace in the idea that his own son was dentally blighted also. Well, maybe it’s just bad recessive genes. Luck of the draw. That sort of thing. Who knows???
Anyway, here we are. Isaac needs two more appointments to fill the other cavities that are there. Just getting his teeth cleaned he screamed and struggled. In fact, he’s now so fragile and gunshy that yesterday I took him for a haircut (to a place he likes, with videos and toys where he’s usually very content) and just getting his hair COMBED he wanted to hold my hand and soon set in to screaming.
He’s shell-shocked. He really is. But … what can we do? I certainly don’t want another root canal situation to happen, nor for another tooth to end up infected, abscessed, etc. So we do need to do it, no matter what. Dr. John also said that general anesthesia is a bad idea in its own right, and that he would never have done that had I brought Isaac to him first. Nor does he use valium. He just works quickly using gas and Novocain and gets it over with—speed and confidence!—and then sends the child off with a prescription for a milkshake. (No chewing, so no risk of biting the numb tissues; and the sucking motion on the straw helps the numbness fade more quickly; and of course it’s tasty and delicious and soothes the soul…)
I’m getting battle-scarred enough that I’m not even all that worried about what’s to come. It seems that there’s no way it can possibly ever be as bad as it was with the root canal and so everything else seems easier to manage now.
Meanwhile, an interesting turn of events at Isaac’s school. Turns out it’s a little more overtly religious than we were led to believe. Yes, it has a Catholic name and is physically located right next to a large Catholic church. But we were emphatically reassured that this is only because they rent the space there. They are NOT Catholic. People of all religions attend there. Now, for contrast we looked at a REALLY Catholic school—you know, a statue of Christ greeting you at the door, teachers who are also nuns, prayers over the loud speaker each morning. Now that’s a Catholic school, and after we looked at it, we decided no thanks. But Isaac’s school was different. We were told ((?) or was it just implied?) that the only “religious” aspect of the curriculum was the Good Shepherd program, which is a few materials in one corner of the room that the child can look at or not look at as he wishes. And you could opt out of even that if you wanted to.
Anyway, so we were comfortable with that. And then… the other day a few other parents and I were early to pick up our kids. As we waited outside the class room, we heard a chorus of tiny voices singing, “Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!” This caused us all to stop and listen intently. Soon, we heard the children reciting a prayer along the lines of “Thank you God for my family. Thank you god for the rain.” Etc. etc. A whole list of things.
Okay… Hm. Openly praying and singing in a group was not exactly what we signed up for. And to me there’s a vast, vast difference between individual/optional religious instruction and compulsory/group religious instruction. I got the uneasy feeling that the school was actually a revival tent incognito.
It turns out that the tricky part is that they’ve changed leadership this year. So possibly the previous principal had a different view than this one does. Or perhaps as a recruiting master, the previous principal just told us what we wanted to hear. But our research and conversations with other parents now indicates that there is a religious element to the school, in addition to Good Shepherd, when it comes to the holidays. Seems they were practicing this special song for the big all-school Thanksgiving lunch coming up soon. And if Thanksgiving is this religious, I guess we’d really better be braced for Christmas.
Also I should add that this song comes with hand gestures. Hallelujah! (arms waving over head) Praise the Lord! (hands in prayer position) that the children were all doing in unison. Isaac demonstrated for me and so evoked the stadium mega church that I thought it was really funny. It took some effort to not laugh outright.
Ben and I have talked about this in some detail now. The bottom line is that it’s not a deal breaker. I mean, we wouldn’t yank Isaac out of the school over it. Ben’s a Christian after all. (He’s a Quaker…) And Isaac is very happy with the school, loves his teacher and the other kids, already has detailed plans to marry a fellow student, and has really already learned some pretty emphatic counting to ten that he’s quite proud of. It’s just, what’s annoying about it, is the false advertising feel of the whole thing. If this had been more honestly presented, I would not have been surprised nor upset about it. I’ll explain that to the principal and we’ll leave it at that.
It helps that Ben takes Isaac to Quaker Meeting fairly regularly. We have an alternative religious orientation to offer to Isaac. Ben said to him, “Is that how we go to church? No…” And asked, “What would happen if you went into our church and said, ‘Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!’ What would people say?” Isaac said, “They would say, ‘SHHHH!’” (Quaker Meeting for Worship is silent.)
In other news, our beautiful, laid-back little Elias has learned to smile. Or I should say, a smile happened to his face in the same way sneezes and hiccups happen. The smile overtakes his mouth and seems to surprise him as much as anyone. Last night he was smiling at Ben and trying to take his glasses, which is all as it should be.