For several days Mom complained that she wanted me to take her to the dentist. I truly dragged my feet because I didn't know how I would get her there. She couldn't walk to the car and I couldn't carry her.
But about a week ago we got an excellent new walker. It might seem that this would be a simple problem to solve, but suppose I managed to take her to the dentist. Then I would need to get her into the office. She has a wheelchair but to transport it is a lot harder than it seems. This new walker is a rider walker. I was sternly told not to even think of using it as a wheelchair. Well, it's a great wheelchair. It's small size and only weighs 17 lbs so I can toss it easily in the backseat. The dentist office started looking more doable.
Then I started trying to find a dentist, since her dentist had retired. Too bad. He had nearly a cult following. Driving around town I saw a dazzling place with neon signs that said "Dentist." It really had style, and I decided to check them out on the internet. Yes yes yes. This looks fine. They do root canals, extractions, implants, bridges, dentures, everything. I made an appointment, and we went in today. She managed to walk out to the car with the help of the walker. This amazed me.
The visit went so smoothly, especially considering that the problems were monumental. Mom wore a bridge on the bottom front, but the two teeth that anchored it had to be removed. I had a bottle of Amoxicillin, so I had given her antibiotics for several days before the appointment, and she was ready, on her first visit to the new dentist, to have this ordeal dealt with immediately. Impressions were made for a new bridge, and boom, the dentist took out the two damaged teeth.
The dentist was a woman, probably about 35, beautiful and professional. The whole office just had a wonderful atmosphere.
As I settled with the front desk, I noticed the dental records from Mom's visit. Half the page was taken up by very unusual handwriting. "Is that the dentist"s writing?" I asked. "Yes." The receptionist supposed I disapproved of it. Well, it was different. "Her writing is so large," I remarked. I don't think I've ever seen writing so large. Almost an inch per letter. I told Mom I thought the dentist had weird handwriting.
Lately I've been studying handwriting analysis on the internet. It seems interesting. The size of the writing means how much space a person feels they are entitled to occupy. Not just on paper, but in life. This lady gives herself a lot of room. To a fault? Maybe. Definitely to an unusual degree. The receptionist walked away, leaving me time to more closely examine the writing. She wrote in block print and all capital letters. Her writing reminded me of a shout on paper. There was one slightly disturbing red flag. A loop on the right side of the O indicates deception. I saw that she sometimes did that. Deception? Or a lady with secrets? Very mysterious.
So Mom's dental troubles are on the way to being fixed. She gets a temporary new bridge in a week, and then in two months the new replacement bridge. She made it out of the dentist's office and then began whimpering. At least the worst is over.
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