unnerving

i'm sitting in the waiting room waiting for my kid to be set free from her cleaning appointment. why do all dentist offices have that weird smell, not entirely even sure how to describe it. but it's part what imagine to be antiseptic of some sort, it's got that weird sterile smell to it, part scorched tooth, or bone as the case may be. a really gross combination that one must become desensitized to because i can't imagine working around that smell all day and actually smelling it.

so i'm sitting there, head buried in a book, trying to block out the news which is blaring in the waiting room. i don't want to see the wars, or the killings, i don't want to know there are predators out there--because honestly, it doesn't make my life any easier, it just fills me full of something close to dread at the human condition and the state we find ourselves in.

so, i turn up my ipod and blast yoga music in my ears to offset some of the negative vibe generated by the news. this is a strange solution, i know. especially since i'm using my daughters handmedown earbuds, only one of which works, fortunately it's the right one which houses the control mechanism. so i stick my finger in my other ear to block out what sounds like a lug wrench and air compressor, as if the indy 500 had a pitstop in the backroom of this office. i can hear all kinds of powertools going, and i am imagining horrible things taking place back there. the finger doesn't work for long, so i put my head on my ear and try to press down my ear. again, not a viable solution.

so, i resign to one moderately blaring earbud and trying to focus on the words on the page in front of me.

block out the images of the man drilling in the head of some person i don't know. let alone the fact that my child is behind those doors getting probed. i don't know why suddenly i'm so sensitive to her and the environment.

when she finally comes out, she mentions the drilling sounds, how they creeped her out and she kept trying, just like me, on the other side of the wall to block them out.

sometimes, i think we are so connected to those we love, we can't help but feel their pain. their discomfort. their distress. i wish i could save her from it, but there is no way. we must surrender to the probe and drill sometimes in order to stave off what would otherwise be great harm, eventually.

she asked me about her wisdom teeth, if they would need to come out. and i felt a twinge in me. there's another thing i can't protect her from. reminds me of my dad who began crying on the phone when i was in labor, just hours before i would deliver my only child.

i wish i could save you from it.

he said.

i had no idea what he meant then.

but i do now.