Is life just one big script that we know nothing about? Sometimes, my life is so choreographed that I want to believe that to be true. A string of things that couldn’t have occurred if I’d been one minute earlier or later. And so, this story unfolds.
Two nights ago, while enjoying dinner when I experienced a cringeworthy feeling of the bad kind. My temporary crown loosened. It’s a helpless feeling knowing you need to keep something in place in the mouth, while needing to talk and breathe, let alone eat. The tooth was complaining by the nerve, quite alive and active. All dreadful.
I’d been warned I should bring along dental glue for this very reason. I listened. Prepared I brought the stuff, resembling a bad version of museum wax. It didn’t help that mine had traveled 30,000 miles in the RV. Never opened, it remained pliable, but not especially fresh. I wasn’t feeling this entire procedure. I’d have rather paid for a night visit to the dentist, but there wasn’t one to be found. Well, another of my favorite lines. “‘Ain’t nobody got time for that.” So the procedure began.
Of course, the bathroom sink was lined with a protective towel to catch the temporary every time it was dropped. The temp was carefully removed from the tiny little stump of a tooth which had been amputated to nothing over years and years of dental work. Cleaned and prepared, the temp remained undamaged during the process.
While holding the flashlight, all was ready. Quick as a cricket, the temporary was in place followed by a roll of paper towel on which to bite. I was at the finish line. Clamping down for twenty minutes drying time, I realized how much saliva is produced during those minutes. When the proper time had elapsed, I opened and removed the paper towel. Biting down, I realized a very sad thing.
The cap was on backwards.
Yes.
High and dangerous to the health of the stump.
Flying back into the bathroom, it was removed. Not to worry. The museum glue was nothing more than a feel good measure until you could get to a real dentist. Everything came apart, leaving me with a very naked and sensitive stump that would need to wait until morning for a real Dentist.
In a strange land, one never knows where to get medical care. I’d noted a local dentist in this two block town just the day before. I’d be there at 8 AM. Surely they’d find pity and glue me back together. This is when God went to work.
Arriving, the receptionist told me I would need a mask. A gentleman walked right past me without a mask. The mask-less one turned out to be the dentist. On his day off, he’d stopped by to retrieve something. Off for a day of fun away from the office, his wife was the receptionist.
Could they? Would they? Might they help me?
Well, they couldn’t let my beach trip be ruined, could they? Just like that, the dentist had on his lab coat and told me to get in the chair. He cleaned and checked and mixed and cemented, all while chatting. His first name was the same as VST’s. I’ll never forget his kindness.
In a matter of minutes, they’d saved the day, cementing the little cover in the correct position, eliminating the chance for undue stress on the stump. My heroes.
If I had been five minutes earlier or later, none of that would have happened. I’d have driven to another town and waited in a Covid filled waiting room for a chance to pay hundreds in emergency fees. It didn’t happen that way. I was home in under 30 minutes with a new vacation story.
Kindness. It’s never forgotten. We should always remember to share a great story about small town heroes we encounter every day. Dr. T is mine today. Have a good one.