Number 6 and the Blowfish

This morning I went to the dentist.

The last time I went was about a year ago.

And that wasn’t for a check-up; I haven’t had one of those in a few years.

It was because I had a tooth that hurt so bad I couldn’t take it anymore.

I don’t have a fear of the dentist; we just haven’t had the money to go.

Last year our dentist cleaned all the kids’ teeth knowing that I did not have the money to pay him.

One of the kids had a cavity that needed to be fixed.

He took care of that.

And then he worked on my bad tooth.

He did over $2000 worth of dental work for us and basically let us put it on a tab.

But my tooth was still messed up.

So I had to go to a different dentist.

The dentist who pulled out the wrong tooth.

Followed by a third dentist for a root canal.

I had to borrow $2300 from my parents to pay for those.

Which still left me with that tab at my dentist’s office.

I haven’t been able to pay that off.

So I’ve had issues with my teeth that I have left.

And left.

And left.

I didn’t want to call the dentist.

I owe him a shitload of money.

But I just got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore.

I called him to explain.

He told me I could come in today.

He checked me out, and then he basically did a quick fix.

And then he told me,

“I temporarily fixed the problem. It will last you for a while.

But it will eventually break.

You have a cavity in that tooth.

And the one in front of it.

And the one in front of that.

And the one in front of that.

They aren’t bad yet, but they will need to be addressed.”

And that’s when I lost it.

I sat there bawling in the dentist’s chair.

The dentist gave me a pat on the shoulder and told me to call if what he had done didn’t solve the problem.

He has been very generous and understanding for a long time.

But it was pretty clear that he wasn’t going to do anything else until I was able to pay off at least a chunk of the bill.

I left the office and drove home still crying.

I had to stop at Costco on the way home to get some food.

When I got home, I took in a load of stuff from the back of the car and brought it inside.

Number 6 greeted me at the door wearing his pajamas, sneakers, and a Minnie Mouse baseball hat.

“Mommy, I will help you,” he said to me.

And as we walked to the car, he reached over and grabbed my hand.

He looked up at me.

“I weally love you, Mommy,” he said. “Hold my hand.”

The tears came back.

This time for a different reason.

Holding my little guy’s hand helped to put things into perspective.

Everything will somehow work out.

And even if it doesn’t, I will still have that little hand to hold.

No amount of money can buy that.

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