Total recall.

Published in Meath Chronicle Tuesday 27th August 2013.

There was no respite all morning. Only a child remained before lunch, a loose milk tooth that must be numb by now.  The kid hopped in the chair and with his father sat opposite, the dentist searched for the offender.  They usually fall out on their own, he thought, but this one had stubbornly hung on – disrupting sleep and breaking habits. The dentist stroked his glove over tiny teeth, the child´s bruised tongue leading the way until he felt the culprit fidget between his fingers. Hesitating, he looked up at the child´s father, his familiar expression and the sharp edge of the baby tooth sent a shudder through him.

The dentist´s stress and hunger left him, an exquisite warmth rose in his stomach. Suddenly joyful, he saw himself reflected in the child´s eyes. Time became invisible; he felt the wobbly tooth with his own tongue, the ease of its movement back and forward as he rubbed its rough under-surface, a metallic taste filled his mouth and he looked up into his own father´s soft, hazel eyes, knowing this man would always love him and never do him harm.

He was calm watching his father deftly make a loop in the black thread, stout fingers working their magic, explaining as he went, “a loose tooth is like having a stone in your shoe, son, you can shift your weight or wiggle your toes but at some point you´ll have to take off your shoe and remove it” and with that he handed over the noose which the son placed around the tooth. The father gave him the end of the thread and watched intently. The boy never flinched under those caring eyes, the tooth was out and the father threw him proudly upon his shoulders so he was taller than himself.

The dentist recovered. Smiling at the little boy in the dental chair, he popped the milk tooth in an envelope. The father gave his son a big thumbs-up as he jumped off in delight.  “Didn´t I tell you wouldn´t feel a thing”, he beamed, “I´ve been coming here for years, he´s the best dentist”. “Look, look Daddy, for the tooth fairy”, he held up the packet and then tugging at his father´s coat, “Daddy, Daddy, I want to be a dentist when I grow up”. “Well son, not everyone can be a dentist, you´ll have to study hard at school”, he patted his son on the back and they headed for reception. 

But the dentist had broken his contract with habit. Now, he would have to rebuild it all, recall a difficult youth, suffer his father´s death, escape the North, treat an infinite number of patients and learn his trade. Until then, he would return to the surgery riding upon those strong shoulders, sob some and think to himself - you need a lot more than hard study to be a dentist.

Dr. Don Mac Auley.

Raising fears.

Published in Meath Chronicle Tuesday 23rd july 2013.


They´d been shouting in whispers all morning, her younger brother hadn´t noticed. Yesterday´s clothes gave off a musty odour adding to her tiredness while downstairs the parents batted looks of scorn over cereal bowls as she umpired their silence.  Still unaware of the game she hoped things would improve when Dad finished his coffee and left for work.

They didn´t; the car was tense. Finally, switched on to the situation, her brother resorted to needy mode. He suddenly became useless, fiddling with his seatbelt and complaining his shoes hurt. Up front the mother crunched through the gears and the traffic. The girl undid her own seatbelt to loosen her brother´s shoelaces and make sure his belt was secure. “Your father won´t be collecting you after school today”, the mother declared as she huffed before another red light, “I will”.

Distracted and tapping the steering wheel, “You know every night when we brush our teeth. Well today, you´re going to visit the man who makes sure your teeth are okay. He´s called the dentist” she hissed the final syllable, a screech of tyres ending all discussion.

Her girlfriends shared their dentist stories during break. Most were positive so she felt better when her mother returned at home time. Her brother was already in the car with his tired, hungry face. They parked up and the little boy was deposited roughly in his buggy. The mother was oblivious to the tears that streamed down his hot cheeks so the girl grabbed his hand and squeezed, wishing she too was somewhere else.

In the waiting room, they waited their turn. The mother tore sweaty fingers through countless magazines, reading none of them. When a smiling lady opened the door and called the girl´s name, she jumped up from the sofa, tripping over herself with excitement, and fell hard on her knee. The mother rushed to her rescue. “You´re okay, darling. Don´t worry it´s only a scratch, it´s fine”, she reassured rubbing the fresh bruise.

The mother looked up at the nurse and her caring expression evaporated. She shrank back; returning to the magazines where the toddler recorded everything through half closed eyes. Despite the storm of confusion brimming in her brain, the girl took the nurse´s hand and left her mother, her brother and the waiting room. She repeated the nurse´s words over in her head, “such a brave girl”, “such a brave girl”.

“What´s your name?” asked the dentist giving her a big smile as she jumped up on the chair. “It´s your first time with us but where are your parents?” “They´re scared of the dentist”, she replied in that honest way kids only know. “They had a row this morning because my dad didn´t want to bring us. My mam is too nervous to come in and my younger brother´s pretending to be asleep…But I´m not scared, I´m here for my check-up”. And she opened her nearly four-year-old mouth as wide as she could.