The Tooth of the Matter
Of the time I’ve spent in doctors’ offices, next to a therapist’s couch, the dentist’s chair tops the list. Those hours with my mouth wide open, metal tools poking, prodding and drilling, began when I was 12 after my front tooth was knocked out in a car accident.
I was lucky it was just a tooth, but the experience was terrifying. At the moment of impact, my face slammed against the car’s seatback. I’ll never forget the sensation of blood filling my mouth and bringing on a gag and a series of sensations that would haunt me my entire life.
It was trauma for my mouth, teeth and jaw; chilling for my little girl soul.
Over the years, a parade of substitutes took up space in my mouth. In the beginning, an acrylic crown was implanted and stayed put with a wire that was visible when I chose to smile (which wasn’t very often back then.)Sometime later, metal braces were placed on all of my teeth, except for that incisor, as it had managed to embed itself into the bony architecture of my mouth.Once the braces were removed, there was a tooth-on-plastic contraption that could flip in and out. Later, a two-crown porcelain bridge was inserted. Thankfully it held for many years, but when stronger materials were available, my dentist recommended a four-crown bridge replacement that has served me well for more than 20 years.
However now, if you look closely where the tooth and gum meet, you can see a dark outline of gold. As my tongue sweeps my upper teeth, there’s a tang of metal. My dentist informed me that the bridge has well outlasted its 20-year guarantee and it’s time for a new bridge.
So with a loud, teeth-rattling sigh, I made the appointment.I share this with you to shine a light into the dark corners of returning. The last thing I want to do is resurrect those hours in dentist’s offices with my mouth straining to stay open. The needles. That drilling! But we can only get so far before our past catches up with us, asking, begging, demanding that we pay attention.
Returning to that chair is resuscitating memories but it’s also offering me a chance to reframe what happened with the benefit of distance and age.Here’s one: Though it’s easy to blame that seatback for the trauma to my mouth, it only recently occurred to me that it was also solid enough to keep me from flying forward. The impact could have sent me out the window. That seatback was sturdy but also flexible enough to soften the blow.Two opposing things can indeed be true at the same time.When we look back at something painful with the long arm of time, we may be able to see a more complete truth.
And when we take this to the page – or any place of expression – we can turn it and reposition it so we can see it less like a cavity and more like a cave waiting to be seen more clearly in the light.
Photo by unsplash.#writingtrauma
Coming Up
Still spaces left for my upcoming single-session workshop with Laurie Kahn (online)“How Can Writers of Trauma Avoid Being Retraumatized?”Story Studio Chicago6:30 – 8:30 pm (CT)Monday, February 28, 2022