In 6th grade, my school sent home a permission slip for students to get a free dental checkup. My mother signed it and sent me back to school. School put me on a bus to Vermont. I lived in New Hampshire. It was quite a long bus ride…. 45 minutes maybe? An hour? Where did they find this dentist?
I remember sitting in that dentist’s chair, crying, in pain. As he drilled and drilled and drilled and filled and filled and filled. At one point he said to me “How old are you?” I answered “Twelve”. He replied, “The stop crying like a baby and act like it”.
I got 14 fillings that day.
I don’t know if I needed those fillings.
I know I didn’t ask for them.
I know I didn’t get a choice between silver or white.
I don’t know if my mother would have signed that form if she knew what she was giving permission for.
I have since found out that this was considered “Preventative Dentistry”.
Drill and fill, Baby.