Our dentist is the Rolls Royce of pediatric dentists. He is a professor at
Stanford University Medical Center. His
private practice, which has a waiting list a mile long, specializes in unique
and difficult cases of pediatric dentistry.
His waiting room is filled with children with special needs and their
stressed out parents. Dr. Adams is very
dignified looking African American man in his sixties.
I think that he’s had an extremely successful career and he drives a very
expensive sports car. He always wears a
bow tie with some sort of child friendly print but his manner is all business. His staff speak in very low and respectful
tones around him.
Like many autistic children and children in general, my son
does not do well with people poking sharp instruments into his mouth. He had a stint of doing well at his cleaning
and check up appointments for a couple of years but after several years of
completely unsuccessful appointments we elected to try sedated dentistry at our
local children’s hospital. The plan was
to do a cleaning, X-rays, sealants, and a thorough check up, all while Josh was
under anesthesia. Because of Josh’s
endocrine issues, a team of anesthesiologists and endocrinologists were also
present to make sure that his hormone levels were managed while he was
under. Like most medical processes with
Josh, it was quite a production.
The morning, which began swimmingly, came to a grinding halt
when Dr. Adams met with me after the procedure to tell me how things went.
“Well, we found some cavities,” he began.
“What? “ I was very surprised, as Josh had never had
cavities in his life. “How many?”
“Twenty.”
“What?!!!”
My face must
have immediately betrayed my key emotions – shock, anxiety and shame. I’ve done a bad, bad job with my beautiful
son’s teeth. I thought of all of those
times that I didn’t want to fight with Josh to floss so I didn’t. I wondered if Josh would ever learn to brush
on his own. I imagined Josh losing all
of his teeth and having to get false teeth, which a thousand specialists would
have to be involved in. They would
whisper to each other, “His mother didn’t do a very good job managing his
teeth. She’s a bad, bad mom, you know.”
I expected that Dr. Adams would respond with some firm
encouragement about better dental practices at home. What parent doesn’t dread what the dentist
will say when their child has failed the cavity test?
But Dr. Adams surprised me with his kindness and grace.
“You know, my sister has cerebral palsy,” he shared.
“It’s hard to brush her teeth because she doesn’t have the muscle tone
to keep her mouth open. My parents and I
really struggled with it her whole life.
It can be really hard with kids like these. Also, Josh has his cavities primarily because
he has exceptionally deep grooves in the tops of his teeth. This is not your fault.”
What do you know? Our
dentist gets it. And that ray of grace
was enough for me to pull myself together and be led into the post op room
where my son groggily opened his eyes and smiled at me.
