I arrived at Katherine’s pre-school to pick her up a tad late yesterday, having had to stop for gas. I could see her running around and doing stuff inside, through the little window in the door. When the teacher answered the door, though, the first question asked me was, “Have you talked with your wife?”
“Uh … no.”
Katherine had, it seems, had an accident on the playground. She’d slipped (on some ice?) on the steps of the short slide out front, and as part of her landing had impacted her left front top tooth. Katherine came trotting over to show me at that point, in seeming good spirits. Her gum was pretty badly bruised, I could see where she’d bled, and the tooth —
— well, the tooth was pushed out a little bit, and pushed back a little bit. Not horribly, but distinctly.
Katherine immediately opined that she hoped the tooth came out, so that the tooth fairy could visit her. She’s been eager for her teeth to come out (as a sign that she’s growing up) for over a year.
It seemed that they’d tried to reach me by cell (as that’s what’s on the emergency contact sheet), and had left two messages but not been able to get hold of me. Nor, it turned out, had Margie. I checked my cell, and it showed no reception. Nada. Which seemed odd. I cycled the power on it, and, bam, there was reception and messages. Strange.
Anyhow, they’d wiped away the blood, gotten some ice for it, and Kitten had been (in the words of both teachers) “very brave.”
When I got hold of Margie, she had a call in to the dentist, but hadn’t heard anything back. I drove home with Kitten, who was chatty, but very careful of touching her tooth with her tongue or anything, so her enunciation wasn’t what it normally was. Still, she seemed perky and happy (and eager for the tooth to fall out, re tooth fairy).
Relatively quiet evening. I’d promised her some Jello with dinner, but we were out, and Margie was at a meeting, so I told Katherine we were going to go out and buy some — but then I talked to Margie on the phone, and she was already stopping by the store. So Katherine and I went for a walk instead in the 20ish cold, she in her snow boots, and we talked about ice, and being properly careful (but not scared). She was at first blithe about some of the ice on the sidewalk (extensive — it’s been pretty close to sub-freezing since last weekend’s storm), then got pretty frightened in a grab-daddy’s-hand kind of way, but was eventually traversing snow and ice with more aplomb than I was comfortable with (though she was very proud of it).
During the reminiscences of what had happened, she did briefly get teary and assert that she’d not been very brave, and that it had been really scary when it happened. But only briefly, and then she was back to having fun with her food.
Katherine had some cheesy mac for dinner (with a spoon, so she could scoop it off with her lips). The tooth didn’t seem to hurt her much, and we didn’t test it for looseness, but we urged her to ginger caution nonetheless. Margie brought home some Jello, both to make and (time considerations) in little snack cups, which Katherine just loved.
Then upstairs, special bath time for Mommy, some kids’ Motrin from Daddy, good night stories (including one about Blue losing a tooth), and she slept like the proverbial babe, all night long.
Some time after Katherine was in bed asleep, the dentist called. She was very apologetic, but, for some reason, none of her messages had gotten to her cell phone until just a few minutes previously (which, coupled with my own experience, makes me wonder if there were cell network problems yesterday).
Her diagnosis, via phone, was that there was probably not much that could be done (we could have, evidently, straighted the tooth out some right after the accident, but the very thought made Margie and I both cringe). She’ll likely lose the tooth, or it may stay and get dark, but there’s no big worry as it’s just a baby tooth. Biggest long-term issue might be a slight white spot on the permanent tooth where the impact disrupted the bud slightly.
We’re taking her in anyway, natch. Being the Over-Protective Dad, I’m in a mostly-suppressed tizzy about My Poor Disfigured Daughter and How This Will Affect Her Speech Therapy and Will The Other Kids Make Fun Of Her and all that sort of jazz. Plus, of course, What If This Turns Into A Life-Threatening Injury And We’d Only Gone In To The Dentist And Made Sure.
Yeah, silly me, I know.
Poor kitten. That must have hurt like nobody’s bidness.
Never, ever apologize for protecting your child and doing everything you can to make sure she grows up to be as healthy as possible. That’s our job, as parents.
Parenting is such a weird thing, when you think about it, don’t you find? You spend a large hunk of your life taking care of them, but part of that care is to make sure that you produce someone who’s independent and doesn’t need you any more.
Yep, the goal is to make yourself redundant.
I found that bit the hardest part. My daughter and I are still working through bits of what it means for her to be an adult. *Sigh*.
Poor katherine
And no…
It’s worth doing just to make sure, and for nothing else so you can sleep easier tonight knowing that she is going to be ok. On the plus side (long term) she’ll be getting her adult teeth in over the next 6 years or so, so this too shall pass.
Molly did something similar, er, here: http://sekimori.org/archives/003289.php
The tooth came out though, root and all. She’s got a bridge in there now, to hold the space open so her grownup tooth can come in correctly, next year or so. Did the dentist mention anything about that need at all, when the tooth comes out? If not, might want to axe ’em.
Yeah, I know. The dentist said age 7-10 (though Margie was precocious in that). But it’s worth going (and we have an appointment at Noon).
Margie reports she’s a bit sore this morning, but not in any particular pain. She’s being very careful about it, though.
Took a chip out of permanent front tooth in second grade on support pole from school swing set (dangerous things that schools don’t allow anymore). Hurt like hell, but the dentist said it would give me character!!! It was very noticible until the rest of my permenent teeth grew in, but now I hardly even see it.
Hope Katherine is back to chomping through life soon.
Good question for the dentist. There’s already been concern about her jaw space, so I’ll ask about that.
In some ways, I wish the tooth were actually out — it would probably be easier to deal with than it being crooked (though not terrifically crooked, enough to be noticeable and, possibly, interfering with her speech).
We’ll see (and I’ll post appropriately tasteful pics).
My brother crashed into a wall at high speed in a roller-skating rink as a young lad, and hit face first. We always kidded him about the fact that he didn’t appear to have put his hands up to protect himself from the crash.
It happened afer he got his adult teeth and, as I recall, it killed his right upper front tooth requiring a root canal and a cap. I think that’s probably the worst-case scenario for Katherine. If her case turns out similar to my brother’s, it will be frustrating to deal with but there shouldn’t be any great effect on the quality of her life in the long term.
Hope-you-feel-better-soon hugs from Nona and Nono.
Quoth the principal in the matter:
Dear Nona and Nono —
I love you. I miss you so much. I will see you soon and I miss you so much. My tooth is doing fine.
— Katherine