A broken promise

Last week was pretty much shot for me getting anything accomplished other than caring for my two boys who are recovering from their surgeries.  When we got home they couldn't even lift their arms to feed themselves or brush their teeth or do anything.  And I was waking up every 4 hours in the night to give them their pain meds.  I helped teenage boys do things last week I never expected I would ever do.  But now they are up and getting all around the house and pretty self-sufficient, even if they are walking a little slow.  Yesterday my claustrophobia (and clutter-phobia) got the best of me and I banished them and all of their pillows and blankets to the bedroom after a week of them sleeping and spending most of the day on the couches in the great room.  They really are making a remarkable recovery.

So this week I have been a busy bee getting everything ready for Christmas weekend.  I baked about 400 cookies and delivered them to many people, cleaned like crazy and planned a menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner for today through Monday, and spent most of yesterday shopping for food and getting any last-minute things we needed.

After such a hectic week of running a million errands, I made myself a promise that I wasn't leaving the house until we had church on Sunday.  I left the caveat that perhaps Sherlock Holmes could temporarily lure me out of my house for a few hours, however.

Well, plans changed this morning and I had to break my promise to myself.

Savanna and Zachary were playing in the basement, and suddenly Savanna ran upstairs screaming and holding her ear.  She was followed by Zachary who had a very scared look on his face.  I knew something was very wrong, so I pulled Savvy's hand away from her ear and saw blood coming out of her ear.  Never what you want to see.  Anyway, I asked what happened and Zachary had been pretending to paint Savanna's face with a watercolor paintbrush (not the cheap kind, but an actual watercolor paintbrush), and for some reason he had decided to shove the brush into Savanna's ear.  Bristles first, but as I said it was a real brush with a metal ferrule.

Savanna and I jumped in the car and drove to our local ENT, which luckily is only 2 miles away.  Due to numerous eardrum ruptures during her early years, she was already a patient of record and the doctor just worked her right in to the schedule.  Fortunately, it was a laceration of the ear canal and not a tympanic membrane puncture.  He prescribed some antibiotic drops, and after a stop at the pharmacy we were on our way.  Savanna's ear still hurts a bit, and is still dripping a little blood, but she is OK and that is what matters.

I had also forgotten about a commitment I had today which I also had to break my promise for.  Savanna and Noah had a Christmas piano recital in which I played a duet with Savanna.  The kids did great, and it was very fun to see them perform.

And then we went to see Sherlock Holmes.  Wow.  What a great movie!

So, it turns out I spent 8 hours away from home today when I had planned to stay home.  But then I decided it had been a pie crust promise just like Mary Poppins explained....easily made, easily broken.  And no harm done.

Here's to hoping tomorrow I can just stay home and enjoy the day getting ready for our big party with cousins tomorrow night.

Paul Revere...again

You all know that I am in love with Paul Revere.  He and Henry Knox are my Revolutionary War heroes.  And you may remember this post from April when Paul Revere made me faint.

Well, more of the story is that Jacob had his ipod with him that day that I fainted.  But Jacob got his ipod taken away while we were in NY the following week, and he didn't get it back until last week when he had his surgery.   When we got home from the trip I put his ipod in my desk drawer and didn't look at it again.  I had never looked to see the pictures he had taken in Boston.  Turns out he had this beauty of my forehead.  You can clearly see where I smacked my head on the bricks.  I just had to share

This reminded me that I needed to do a book review of probably my favorite book I have read this year.

I highly recommend Paul Revere and the World He Lived In by Esther Forbes.  Let's just say it didn't win the Pulitzer Prize in 1942 for nothing.  The storytelling is amazing.  Sure, it's non-fiction, but it is written as a story.  You actually can smell, hear and taste old Boston.  It tells the real story of who Paul Revere was and why he what he did to become an American legend, but it at the same time teaches what it was like to live in old Boston.  For instance:

"The skyline was dominated by steeples and the whole town by bells.  Everyone knew Christ's 'royal peal' and that New North's had a sour note.  King's Chapel's was deep and sad.  Old Brattle and Hollis had their bells.  Folk would stop in the street to count the 'passing bell' tolling out the sex and age of the deceased.  And they always ran to ask for whom the bell tolls.

"The bells rang wildly for fires or to call out the mob, joyfully for the repeal of certain acts of Parliament or the withdrawal of an especially unpopular royal governor.  They tolled over 'tyranny.'  They opened and closed the markets, and twice on Sabbath called all to church or meeting.  These were the great bells--the very voice of Boston.  Besides there were countless smaller ones.  Handbells rung on the street advertising 'wonders' and sales, or that it was two o'clock and 'The Bunch of Grapes' was about to serve dinner.  Schoolmasters rang for school, cowbells drowsed through the blueberry bushes and hardhack of the Common, and all day long, in hundreds of shops and houses, the tinkle, tinkle, tinkle of doorbells.  In winter-time came the frosty sparkle of sleighbells as citizens rode out in their 'boobyhuts.'

"The music of bells is almost forgotten by modern ears.  Then it was everywhere."

A forgotten post...The Birthday I'll Never Forget

I should have written this post last September...like 15 months ago.  I forgot I had these pictures.

My 38th birthday was pretty dang exciting.  We were in Salt Lake city, and a family I grew up with invited my entire family to a birthday bash for me.  Our families had not been all together in decades, and it was a very exciting day.

The party was at my friend's house, and it started off pretty harmlessly.  We all had some delicious food, and then the kids went off to play in the basement.  Within about 5 minutes, Savanna came upstairs crying.  Now when the kids cry, unless they are vomiting or bleeding I tell them to shake it off and they will be fine.  But Savanna was bleeding--from right next to her eye!

She had been playing foosball with her cousin, and he had pushed the stick from his side to kick the ball, but the other end of the stick was exactly at the height of Savanna's eye.  It popped her skin right open.

Maybe if this had been a boy I would have just butterfly-bandaged it up and told him he would have a cool scar.  But this was my precious girl!  I didn't want her to have a scar on her face.  So my mom and I left the party to find an emergency room where she could be stitched up.

The doctor originally wanted to just glue it, but I wouldn't let him.  Of course, gluing is easier, and you don't have to give kids a shot to numb anything.  But Savanna has a scar on her forehead from a botched gluing from when she was 2.  I didn't want that right on her cute face.  I insisted on stitches, and the doctor agreed that was a better fix for this cute girl's face.   She didn't even flinch when he numbed her up.  We were glad to have my mom with us, because we all were laughing about all kinds of things, and then Savanna laughed so hard that she snorted, which made us all laugh even more.

Two little stiches and she was as good as new.

We headed home the following day so the kids could start school.  This is what Savanna looked like for her first day of school last year.

Let's get this party started

I'm glad that week is over.  Being away from home at the hospital when everything was hitting was really hard.  But thanks to the prayers of family and friends, we all made it through last week and are feeling great.


The boys continue to rock their recovery.  They came home Thursday night after breaking the hospital record for recovering from their particular surgery.  They spend all day and night in our comfy great-room chairs surrounded by pillows, but I make them get up several times a day and take a lap around the main floor.  Yesterday they even stood up at the bar to eat their lunches.  They still can't lift their arms much or bend down, so I have to wash their hair, help them get dressed and reach their things for them, but they are doing really well.  Maybe that's the Percocet they are taking talking, but things improve drastically for them every day.

We were very aware last week of the great blessings we have.  While my boys were there for a corrective surgery with a quick, albeit quite painful, recovery, we saw many children who were in the hospital for very serious conditions.  The first morning when Joel woke up he said, "Wow.  There were a lot of babies born last night."  I told him there were no babies born in that hospital, but the babies he heard crying had just been through surgery.  He got teary and said that he had never realized that a baby would have to have surgery.  And then there were the kids we saw walking the halls who clearly are struggling with major medical problems and we felt so grateful for the blessing of good health.  At the same time we felt inspired by these brave kids pushing an IV pole around with 5 different bags going into 5 different tubes.  They had big smiles and were as sweet as could be.  It was so humbling to be there.  The family next door to Jacob's room was there for their daughter's 14th surgery.  Another dad I met in the elevator had been there for 5 weeks with his daughter, who said that everything that could have gone wrong with her surgery had gone wrong.  And here I was leaving the hospital with my 2 boys who had made a miraculous recovery.  No wonder I was so emotional last week!

Our friend (who is also our bishop) who lost his eye last week is feeling upbeat and better about his situation.  Abram is great and completely at peace with the random events that led up to the whole eye injury thing.  Mark is holding up as he has stepped in and taken care of the many church responsibilities that fell on his shoulders this week while our bishop is out for a few weeks recovering, including conducting and speaking at the funeral of the amazing man in our ward who died of cancer this week.  Mark was able to keep his composure and say just the right things, which was a great blessing.  We all loved this man and were inspired by his courageous battle with cancer.

Friday after the funeral I went to the kids' school and got them all out early.  After a very heavy week, I was ready to get the party started and begin Christmas vacation.

The kids are all out of school this week.  This means cookies, cookies, crafts, movies, more movies, some cleaning, and lots of fun. I love Christmas break.  Hopefully I will be posting some pictures of the cute sewing projects I have been dying to get around to.

Now it's time to get this party started.  Bring on the gingerbread men.

We're going home!!!!

Wow!  These boys of mine are tough.  Plus, many people have been praying for their quick recovery.  The hospital has never had a kid ready to go home from the Nuss Bar procedure surgery within 48 hours, but Jacob was ready.  Joel followed suit and 48 hours after his surgery, he made a major turn for the better and stopped pushing his morphine button.  Jacob has been discharged and now we are all sitting in Joel's room watching a movie waiting for 10:00 when Joel will have been off of IV pain meds for 8 hours so we can all go home!  Usually kids are on morphine for 3 days and then the last day make the transition to oral pain meds.  There is still a lot of pain when the guys get up or down, but that is under control with their oxycodone, which means they are ready to get out of here.

Here's what has happened since Tuesday when we checked in.

We took some "Before" shots

Then they waited their turns for the operating table.

This is Jacob's first "after" picture

Joel's surgery was about 4 hours after Jacob's.  He had a little trouble getting enough oxygen after the surgery because it really hurt to take a deep breath.

The first night was a bit rough and the boys were hooked up to IV fluid and morphine, and they each  had an oxygen monitor on their finger and a........catheter down below.

The day of surgery they were expected to do nothing other than rest and stay pain-free.  Yesterday the goal was for them to get up once or twice and walk a little.  Jacob decided he was feeling so good he did it about 5 times, which was enough to convince the doctor he was done with a catheter.  He felt much better instantly, as you can imagine.

This was encouragement for Joel to get moving more.  He started getting up and down by himself to show that he could be done with his catheter as well.  Smart boys.

Jacob was the first to venture out of bed and walked down to Joel's room so they could see what the results of each other's surgery were.

They posed for this picture of their new chests.

 Now as soon as Joel is unhooked from his IV we can leave.  They left it in just in case he took a downturn and needed morphine again.   They are both excited to go home and take showers to wash the hospital smell and grunge of recovery away.

I am so grateful that we had such a great surgeon who was able to fix these boys up.  He said that Joel's pectus was much, much deeper than the MRI showed that it was.  He will now know what life with more than 75% of his lung capacity feels like.

This hospital is very nice, but it will be wonderful to be home again.  Sure it is nice to be here to have someone take such good care of them, but, as Joel said today, "I can swallow pills and watch movies at home.  Let's get out of here."

Laugh or cry

"The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache.”
--Marjorie Hinckley

That about sums up my week so far. From a tragic accident during a game Friday night where someone dear to us lost an eye (that old idiom is no longer just an idiom to us), to the whole other chain of events which followed, to the passing away of a heroic ward member who had been battling cancer, to now sitting in a hospital with two of my boys who are recovering from a very painful surgery, it has been a wild week of emotional trauma.

The boys surgeries went well and they both are sleeping comfortably. Their chests are completely normal-looking. I have taken a lot of pictures, but I don't have the energy to think about uploading them now.
Hard times always bring the scripture from Isaiah 53 to mind: "Surely he hath bourne our griefs and carried our sorrows." When life seems to throw too much at me, I remember the gift of Jesus Christ and that he not only paid the price for my sins but also carried the weight of my burdens so I can endure. We have found reasons to laugh for certain. Jacob made me laugh today when I told him I was going to go use the restroom. He said, "Lucky you." He has a catheter for a few days to save him from getting up out of bed... We have been blessed with two strong and healthy boys who survived a painful surgery and an amazing surgeon who has changed their lives.

The polyp queen

Well, I survived another colonoscopy. I am so glad I went. The doctor found 2 new polyps in the same area he found the one 3 years ago.  They were small and pre-cancerous, but they were there. Now they are not there, and I don't have to go back for 5 years.

As I left the doctor's office, I had one thing on my mind. Food. Specifically a Burgerville chocolate peppermint milk shake. I went all summer and fall without giving in to the temptation of Burgerville milk shakes. But I figured that because I hadn't eaten in about 40 hours  I could splurge on calories.

After an eventful day, I am ready for bed early tonight.

And so it begins...

Maybe this is too much information, but I have to share.  Because everyone should have a colonoscopy.  At least everyone who loves their family should have one--even if you think you are too young.

Today is my colonoscopy appointment.  I am expecting the doctor to find everything is just fine, as it has been only 3 years since my last colonoscopy.   But with the polyp discovered last time, and the family history of colon cancer I've got going on, you never know.  My dad should have been fine when they found his tumor that had been growing for at least 7 years only 4 years after his previous colonoscopy.  Basically, you don't mess with colon cancer, and when there is such a simple procedure to screen for it, I am always surprised when people are afraid to go in.

Seriously, people say that a colonoscopy is the worst thing ever.  Well, I can think of a lot of things worse, one of them being colon cancer.  Another one is liver cancer which could have also have been prevented if the colon cancer had been detected before it had spread to the liver.

A colonoscopy is not the worst thing ever.  It's actually no big deal.  Sure, you go a day having only clear liquids for food, but so what?  Did you know that Slurpees are considered a clear liquid?  And apple cider, popsicles and jello are as well.  Of course there is the night spent in the bathroom after chugging a bunch of MiraLax-laced Gatorade, but that's not a big deal either.  It's a small price to pay.  You just have to plan ahead and make sure it is a day that you don't need to be anywhere or accomplish anything critical.  Your family can have Taco Bell

Of course, if you know someone who has battled colon cancer, you can think about him (or her) and how a colonoscopy saved his or her life and that makes any temporary inconvenience disappear.  Today I'm thinking about my fantastical dad who is now 3 years cancer free after battling first colon and then liver cancers, and my amazing neighbor who is battling colon cancer like a champion with a big smile on his face.

December musings

This picture is of Zack right after church Sunday.  I love my big, sweet, snuggly boy.

All of our presents are here (Mark and I bought EVERYTHING online once again this year on Black Friday), and they are wrapped.  It is just good to get that over with and then enjoy Christmas Eve.  A ginormous box with a big surprise present arrived today.  I am hoping it was a good idea....I'll let you know on December 26th.

You know that we do not do Santa at our house.  Every now and then I am reminded why.  If you don't know the whole story, here's a link to a post from a few years ago.  I grew up having Santa come to our house, and Mark did not.  My parents didn't ever use Santa to threaten us into being good, and I was not traumatized when I found out that Santa was a phony.  I just can't lie to my kids.  I am totally not judging people who do play up the Santa thing with their kids--unless they are like the lady I nearly punched in the face at Joann's the other day.

Her little boy was grabbing all the candy that they have right at the checkout, and this loser mom was getting frustrated with the little boy's tenacity.  She finally used her meanest voice and scolded him by saying, "You know that Santa will not come visit little boys who do not do exactly what their moms tell them to do."  The little boy was heartbroken, and put the candy back.  I was so angry.  Usually I only get angry at checkouts when someone with one item asks if they can cut me in line, but this day was a whole new level of checkout-stand-rage.  I turned and glared at the mom.  It wasn't just her tone of voice, but the way she threatened him was abusive to me.  

Sure, as kids we all heard that if you were naughty you would get a lump of coal--my parents never said that--but we all knew it.  And they didn't teach us the song "I'm getting nothin' for Christmas" for nothin'.  I also grew up with the legend of the Weinachtmann who brought bad kids sticks and filled good kids's shoes with candy on December 6th.  That's not what I'm talking about.  This mom at Joann's was really maliciously threatening this poor little boy because he was doing what every single normal kid in the world does.  It wasn't naughty.  It was curious, and he likes candy.  Who doesn't?  It took everything I had to NOT crouch down and take this little boy's face in my hands and say, "You know what, dude?  There is no Santa!  Do whatever you want!"

But I didn't.  I wish I had.  I was just so upset about the way she talked to her kid.

The other day Savanna asked if we could get lunch at Panda Express.  I told her, "Sorry, babe.  But no mysterious fat guy in a red suit brings presents to our house, so we are saving our money for Christmas presents."  She laughed her head off.  And I felt completely liberated knowing that I could tell my kid that and she found it funny and knew it was completely true.  At the same time she knows she is getting Christmas presents from her mom and dad who love her to death and Santa is a fun story and there are awesome movies about Santa.  And Elves.

I'm not trying to persuade anybody to not do Santa.  I just can't do it.

While I am ranting, here's another topic.  Music.  Lindsey posted a question on facebook the other day that got me thinking.  She asked about new Christmas CDs.  I had never heard of a couple of them, so I went online to look at them, because everything Lindsey likes is cool.   I first went to She & Him, and although I do like the voice of "She" I was sad to see that they had purposely left off all songs about Christmas.  Lots of snow, sleigh rides and Santa.  But nothing about Jesus.  I find it upsetting when an artist makes a "Christmas" CD with not one single song about Christmas.  That is what I found on She and Him.  Nothing about the true meaning of Christmas.  It made me mad, so I didn't buy it.

 I fell in love with The Lower Lights.  I had never heard of them, but as soon as I found their website and listened to a couple of tracks, I ordered the CD.  I love it.  I love that it is not just "Holiday" music, but Christmas music.  As in about Christ.  

I actually love a mix of both religious and non-religious songs at Christmas time.  The Carpenters Christmas Portrait is a perfect example.   I love the new Michael Buble Christmas CD, which is mostly a "holiday" CD, but at least he threw me a bone with "Ave Maria."  And Justin Bieber cared enough to throw in Silent Night and Drummer Boy.  Even Jewish Neil Diamond has Christmas CDs chock full of both holiday and Christmas songs.  Ever heard his Candlelight Carol?  One of my all-time favorites.  Go to itunes and check it out.  I need a mix of both types of songs--fun and religious.  That's what Christmas should be.  Fun.  And religious.

Speaking of Lindsey, she asked for more picture of Aubrey's dress.  I aim to please, so here is one showing the full dress.  Aubrey doesn't like this picture, and her dress looks a bit wrinkly because she left it on the floor after the dance and put in on for church the next morning when I took the photo.  But it shows the whole outfit.  I originally made a zebra-stripe bolero to go with the dress, which was a good concept, and it was really cute by itself, but when she put it on with the dress it just looked odd.  Luckily she had a little black cardigan that did the trick.

This shameful picture is of Abram on November 30th.  He grew out his beard for the entire month of November, and this is what it looked like.  I was so excited for December 1st to see his sweet baby Abey face again.  That's a lot of facial hair for a 17.5-year-old.

A random post, I know.  But that's what's been going through my head the past few days.

Aubrey's dress

Last night was Winter Formal at Aubrey's high school.  She had the best dress of all the girls.  We had a hard time finding a dress at the store that covered shoulders and more than 6 inches of thigh.  We finally decided to make a dress.

We found a pattern and I added straps to it.  We replaced the "boring belt" that the pattern called for made of the same dress fabric with a belt we made of a sweet zebra strip remnant.  The dress cost $12.

A lot of other pictures I saw from the dance showed girls wearing not much more than a towel.  Probably a very expensive towel, but that's about all the dress covered.  Sure, people can choose what to wear, but I  am always stunned when parents buy teenage girls "towel dresses," glitter them up, spray them with perfume and send them out with a boy.  Some people probably think I'm a crazy mom because I made my daughter wear a dress that went all the way to her knees and covered her shoulders.

Abram didn't get asked to the dance, but he had a pretty great night that never could have been possible at a dumb old dance.  He and a friend (who is a girl) went to a play in downtown Portland.  What should have been a 20-minute drive took 90 minutes, as he discovered that she is just as directionally-challenged as he.  I sent them with very detailed directions, but somehow they managed to end up 10 miles from downtown.  They called me in a panic, and I was able to guide them to Portland, where they were only 10 minutes late and still got to see the play.  They had the grandest of times.  I didn't know that someone could actually get lost with a navigator and with detailed and correct instructions, but between the two of them they managed to do it.  Luckily they both thought it was hilarious, and made it all the way home after the play without getting lost.

Senior pictures...or should I say picture?

Here in Oregon, kids have senior pictures taken.  This used to be a big market back in the day when there weren't too many professional photographers around.   Now everybody has a friend who has a photography business, so I know it doesn't cost what it used to, but it is still a major production.   It is not just a one-shot photo session wearing that weird black cape that everyone else wore as it was in my old high school days, but like 400 pictures with 8 outfit changes.  Whatever.  Everyone does it, so everyone does it....

Except for Abram.

He had his excellent photographer dad snap his picture a couple of weeks ago in the backyard for his yearbook picture.  I think they took 12 shots to get the right expression.  How many outfits did Abram wear?  One.  Did we buy him a new outfit?  No.  He put on his favorite Boston Red Sox shirt that is about 3 years old and headed outside with Mark.

Abram did shave the day before this picture was taken.  But it was November 2nd, and "no-shave november" had begun....  Had I been in town, I would have made him shave.  Someday he may wish he had not cared about no-shave November.  But he is still such a cute boy, scruff and all.

He looks so much like Mark.  I tell him he may look like his dad, but he is lucky he got his mom's big brain.  Mark's pretty dang smart, but I have to take some credit for this amazing kid.

Abram applied to BYU last week.  Nowhere else.  He is true blue.  Now we wait for the acceptance letter, and hopefully some scholarships.  It was fun to help him write some essays last week for the BYU application and for the scholarship application.  Hopefully someone else likes them as much as I did.

10 Reasons your dentist probably hates you too....

I wish I could claim credit for this witty post.  I lifted it (with permission) from this blog.

I saw a link to this post this morning on facebook.  Normally I don't click on any links, but the title of this one intrigued me.  After all, I really want my dentist to love me!

Maybe you won't appreciate the amazing insight this author-dentist has.  But I sure do.  All 10 of these scenarios happen every single day at the office.

Hopefully you are not the person this is talking about.  It just goes to show there really are two sides to every story!

10 Reasons Your Dentist Probably Hates You Too

1.  The first thing you say when you sit down in my chair is, “I hate the dentist.”  Really?!?  Did your parents teach you any manners?  Did they ever teach you that it is impolite to tell someone you hate them the moment you greet them?  What I really want to say back is, “aww, I hate you too.”

2.  You come to your appointment, and it’s obvious you haven’t brushed your teeth in days.  I’ve had some people with great hygiene come in and apologize because they’ve just eaten lunch and couldn’t brush.  This is not what I’m talking about.  I mean food and thick plaque everywhere.  After 10 years of seeing blood and rotten teeth and some really nasty things, this is still the 1 thing that makes me dry heave.  You know when you come to us that we have to be in your mouth.  Would you clean your home before having company?  Additionally, I have spent hours literally bending over backwards repairing your teeth.  Could you at least pretend that you are caring for the work that I have struggled to complete for you?

3.  After we have spent hours of meticulously repairing your teeth, you complain about the bill.  Would you walk out of the grocery store with a bag full of groceries and expect not to pay?  I’ve just helped you to continue to smile and eat comfortably, two pretty valuable things that help your quality of life.

4.  I tell you that you have a cavity and you need a filling, and you wait months or even years to get the necessary work done.  Eventually the tooth starts hurting.  Two weeks of pain go by, and you call me on a Saturday night while I am at dinner with friends because your tooth that needed a filling a year ago and that started hurting 2 weeks ago is suddenly an emergency.

5.  You come to me so I can help you, but you make it hard for me to do a good job.  You wince and make faces when it’s not hurting.  The idea that I’m hurting you makes me just as uncomfortable and stressed as you are.  If it hurts, please tell me, and I can help you with that.  But if it’s because you don’t like the whole experience, you are only causing me to work in undesirable conditions, making it harder to do my best.  And when you push your tongue in the way, or you don’t open wide enough, it makes it physically impossible to get my work done.  Don’t you want it to be easy for me to do the best job for you?

6.  You call and say, “my tooth didn’t hurt before you worked on it.”  You came to me with a cavity.  I did not put it there.  You did.  I am simply fixing a rotten hole that was in your tooth.  To do so, I must use a tiny drill to cut the rot out of your tooth.  If I took a drill, cut a hole in your femur bone, and then filled it in with a foreign material, don’t you think it might be sore for a while?  Same concept.

7.  When we try to take an x-ray, you won’t bite down on it.  We have to do this to see what is going on with your tooth.  Without knowing the problem, we can’t properly treat you.  I know, in some cases some people really can’t do it; but some people could and won’t just suck it up for 15 seconds.  I’ve had x-rays too, and they hurt and dig into my gums, but I just do it.

8.  You tell me that you bought my car for me after having a crown done.  Contrary to how it seems, you actually didn’t buy me a car.  You bought yourself a crown.  I have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on an education, and have spent hours making this crown fit precisely in your mouth, so maybe you helped me make a portion of a student loan payment.  But you certainly didn’t buy my car.

9.  You no-show an appointment or cancel last-minute.  Some things are unavoidable, but when it’s because your hairdresser got a last-minute cancellation and you had to take that appointment instead, this is just rude.  Not only am I unable to fill the 2 hours of my schedule that I reserved specifically for you, but someone else who wanted to get in had to wait 2 weeks for his/her appointment.  And on that note, when you have the first appointment of the day, and you show up late for your appointment, I am late for every other patient the rest of the day.

10.  When I tell you that you grind your teeth, you deny it, as if I am accusing you of having a horrible disease or being a baby murderer.  It’s not that bad to be a tooth grinder.  I’m just pointing something out and maybe offering a way to prevent more problems in the future.  This observation is concluded from signs or symptoms that are based on real science, not myth.

And along those lines… bonus #11. You tell me a diagnosis I make is simply wrong without listening to me.  If you know so much, why are you coming to me?  You do the filling or root canal yourself.  You obviously don’t need me.

Aaahhh… I feel much better now.

If this isn’t you, I am sure your dentist loves you.  You are probably the bright spot of his/her day.  But it makes you wonder, how do you behave when you go to the dentist?  And most importantly, are you making it easy for your dentist to give you the kind of care you want and deserve?