36/365
10:15am
As I glanced a month ahead in early January, I mistakenly mumbled aloud that Jack had a dentist appointment. He began preparing (read: stressing) for this day at that moment. It's not about the tools, the sounds, nor the sensation. Nope. It's about the light. Too bright. Way too bright. His hygienist, Sarah, must have made a note about this particular anxiety because there were two pairs of sunglasses waiting for him. I could feel his blood pressure go down when he slipped into the chair, though eyes remained firmly sealed.
Sarah was warm and affable, and within a couple moments Jack was having a detailed conversation about Transformers and owls and superheros and planets and birthdays and cherry toothpaste and Mr. Thirsty (the spit sucker in his left hand). Well, it seemed all that was previously worth worrying about was no longer applicable.
Until the day he meets Mr. Drill.
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