“If suffering brought wisdom, the dentist’s office would be full of luminous ideas.” (Mason Cooley)
My dad was a dentist when I was born.
One of my earliest memories is getting my teeth checked at his office when I couldn’t have been more than three years old: an all-inclusive service he was happy to provide me, complete with the old-fashioned flouride treatment—giant metal trays filled with the most vile tasting goo he insisted would make my teeth better, but the whole time I stared, big eyed, at an alarm clock and watched the seconds S-L-O-W-L-Y tick by as I tried not to throw up yet breathe.
Oh, I love the dentist.
I love the dentist so much I’d rather have a C-section than my teeth cleaned.
Thankfully, I’ve been blessed with good teeth (probably a result of the great dental care I received from birth!) so I haven’t had the opportunity to develop too much wisdom courtesy of my teeth. I’ve never even had a toothache, that I can recall. I know, I’m lucky.
My middle son, however, is not.
He was struck by terrible tooth pain tonight and is miserable. We called our dentist who is meeting us at his office first thing in the morning to see what he can do to help. And of course, in the morning the rest of the 5th grade will be departing on a special, talked about, hyped-for-months, overnight camping trip. My son, of all my children, gets so excited about things like that. He has been looking forward to participating, and has been writing in his journal about it, for months. He is packed and ready to go have fun with friends, but instead may be sidelined by a toothache and dental work.
Very unexpected.
But life is like that.
I’ve learned, and I’m trying to teach my son, that you’ve got to roll with the unexpected adventures life throws your way, grit your teeth if necessary, endure the pain until it lessens (or you get accustomed to it—your new unexpected life), and seek the relief that comes as you eventually overcome your challenge. Even if it’s “just” a toothache. And if you do all of that, in time, you’ll find happiness again.
“Happiness is your dentist telling you it won’t hurt and then having him catch his hand in the drill.” (Johnny Carson)
