Thursday Morning, I Wound My Bag Strap Around My Hand in the Dental Waiting Room and Waited for My Name

On Thursday morning, my dental appointment, booked before work, was at nine-thirty. My back tooth had been sensitive for months, and I kept telling myself I should go, I should go, until I finally did. I checked in and sat down in a chair in the waiting room. It smelled of disinfectant, and from behind the wall came the sound of a thin drill, starting and stopping. It wasn't the sound of anyone in pain, but every time it started, my jaw tightened.

Without noticing, I had wound the strap of the bag in my lap once around my index finger. I only realized when I saw my fingertip turning white under it. I unwound it, and before long I was winding it again. The clock on the wall said nine-ten. Twenty minutes still to go, I thought, and it also sounded like twenty minutes of room to run away. I had no idea how much the treatment would hurt, or how much it would cost when it was over. It felt as if all the things I didn't know were standing in line, waiting for my name to be called.

A Right Hand That Holds Instead of the Strap

I unwound the strap, set the bag on the seat next to mine, and opened still().

Don’t you be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. Yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness.

Isaiah 41:10 (WEB)

My eyes stopped on the last part. I had been gripping the strap just a moment before, and there, the one doing the holding was written as someone else. That doesn't mean it makes the treatment hurt less. I know that. It only made me feel that I didn't have to treat my white-knuckled gripping as something I carried alone. After reading, my heart was still racing. Still, I didn't wind the strap again. Instead, I ran the tip of my tongue once more over the aching tooth and told myself inwardly that I had come today to have it looked at.

My name was called at nine thirty-five. When I lay back in the treatment chair, the round lamp switched on above my eyes, and not knowing where to put my hands, I folded them on my stomach. The dentist said while putting on gloves, "If it gets hard at any point, raise your left hand. I'll stop right away." Hearing that, I realized my hand had something to do now. Instead of a bag strap, there was a hand I could raise. Before opening my mouth, I let out one long breath.

Today's breath — Put down what you've been gripping, bring to mind just one reason you came today, and breathe out long.