Saturday night was girls' night at Lynette's, and I looked forward to it all week. I packed up my crafts and started to get ready to go. The kids asked if they could walk across the street (to my in-laws', where Daddy was waiting for them to come eat dinner) and I said that they sure could.
A few minutes later Alif knocked at the bathroom door and said, "Your son smashed his mouth. Can you come help him?" I rolled my eyes and said, "I'm in the bathroom, Alif. Can you help him?" I gathered a wet washcloth and headed out to the dining room to see what was going on, expecting to see a bunch of blood trailing from a busted lip. I'm very experienced in busted lips. They hardly even faze me.
But there was no blood. There was Malachi, sitting calmly in a dining room chair with his hand covering his mouth. Alif was sitting in another chair, facing Malachi directly. He said, "Show your Mom your mouth." Oh dear, please not his teeth. Please not his . . . oh. Oh no.
In the next hour and a half, there was a lot of telephone and Facebook drama, but it basically boiled down to:
~my own dentist was completely unwilling to do anything except send us to the ER and/or call in a prescription. Fury ensued.
~friends recommended a local pediatric dentist
~talked to said dentist. Personally. Immediately, the first time I called.
~told the dentist what had happened to the tooth, and also that Malachi was scheduled to leave for camp the next morning.
~Mr. Wonderful agreed to meet us at his office in 20 minutes
Dr. S was absolutely amazing. He knew exactly how to relate to Malachi. He understood the importance of a 7th grader's church camp experience and how sucky-suckfest it would be to go to camp with a tooth broken half off. He *fixed the tooth*. Because the root was showing, he had to do a pulpotomy, and because Daddy was a genius, he was able to use part of Malachi's tooth fragments to fix the tooth.
So. Broken teeth are a huge bummer, awesome dentists are a huge blessing, and I am one thankful Mommy - that it wasn't worse than it was and that in the end he received some really great care. By the way, Dr. S's office called first thing to check on Malachi. My own dentist's office? Not so much.