Remember how Coach left for Reno on Wednesday straight from work?
I am accustomed to juggling the driving on the nights when Coach works late. Wednesday, though, is typically awesome. No juggling act required. USUALLY. Thursday Coach grabs Curly after dancing at 8:30 on his 'long-way' home.
With Coach at this conference for Physical Therapy, I braced myself to have no help on Wednesday or on Thursday (never-mind the entire weekend).
On Wednesday I picked up Reggie after basketball practice at school at 5:00. I let Curly skip her b-ball practice because she was going to dance from 6-9 that night. Enough is enough. Reggie got in the car and told me that a kid 'who didn't even know where the ball was' ran full-speed right into Reg's mouth. He bumped Reggie's front tooth. HARD.
Before I could pull away, the coach came out to the car to be sure that Reg had told me about his hurt tooth. 'He seems OK, but his tooth got knocked pretty hard.' Swell. Reg assured me that he thought it was going to be OK, but that it felt a bit wiggly. Not OK!
Coach: 'get him to the dentist'. Coach has more dental emergency experience than moi. I called the dentist. 'Is there any bleeding?' I told them 'no', but then I had Reg pull up his upper lip and there was blood at the gum-line. Not dripping, but blood just there, looking alarming and all.
'Get in the car, Reg. We are going to the dentist. You will be late for travel basketball.' The dentist office was now the wrong direction for my next stop. While Reg was moaning and groaning, I shared with him the fact that his father's tooth issues cost us 10 grand. Unfamiliar with Coach's epic tooth debacle? I am going to re-post it after this post. It is a quite the ordeal, with some humor tossed in - of course.
The dentist, who told me before he touched the tooth, that he probably wouldn't need to take an x-ray. He tapped the tooth with an instrument, and then said words that made my gut flip: 'Yeah, this is mobile. We are going to take an x-ray.' Dang.
The x-ray looked good, and he hoped that it would just heal on its own. If there were any changes, then at least we had an x-ray as a baseline.
Fun fact: when the dentist walked in, he shook my hand and said, 'Nice to meet you.' I stopped him right there. He is new to his dad's dental practice, but I used to babysit for him when he was a newborn. No joke. 'Um, we've met before. Phil, I was your first babysitter.' He chuckled a little and admitted that his dad had told him that my family and I were patients. I didn't expect him to remember me.
Can you believe that back in the mid 80's this trusting couple hired my 7th-grade-self to babysit for their 10 month and 1 month old baby boys?
Lately it seems that I am old enough to be the mother of all the medical professionals I see! I'm glad his tooth is going to be okay!
Ha! Now that I think about it, I would have to agree. Like my Grandpa (who lived to be 97) always said, 'It's Hell to get old!' And Reg tried the mouth guard. It is a no-go. He was excited about it, but it interferes too much with his ability to communicate with his teammates.
Fingers crossed it heals on it's own!
He feels like it is almost 100% again. Phew!
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