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Stitches: What Not to Do
Kimmy, Age 12, Easton, CT

My stomach felt empty and my knees shook as I sat buckled tightly in the car. As we passed various restaurants, my stomach started gurgling. I was so hungry. I couldn’t eat that morning since I was getting stitches. I was in first grade, about three feet tall, small and very nervous.

I had already had stitches before, but this time was different. I was on my way to the dentist’s office because there was a gap in between my two front teeth. It wasn’t that noticeable, but the dentist had said that it would give more space for my adult teeth to come in and would eliminate the space forever. It would make my smile prettier, too.

Once we got to the dentist’s office, I sat down awkwardly in the waiting room while my parents were filling out paper work. My stomach was still gurgling. My whole body froze like a cement block when I was called in. “Surgery room number one,” said the assistant in an ‘I don’t want to be here tone’. She didn’t look very nice, to me at least. She was dressed in a teal blue nurse’s outfit, and had her highlighted blonde hair, pulled back tightly in a ponytail. As we were walking in awkward silence, we finally entered the cold, unwelcoming room. As I watched the lady get the instruments ready for the surgery, my head spun in circles like the salt and pepper ride at the Easton carnival.

When my dentist, Dr. W walked in, I felt better. His bright, glowing smile put me at ease. Dr. W explained that he was going to put Novocain, my new worst enemy, in my mouth so I that I wouldn’t feel anything. The doctor took out the needle and struck it in me like an ax slamming down into a tree trunk. I flinched and tried to raise my head to make sure that my dad was still right beside me. I saw a glimpse of him until I felt a strong force push me back down into the chair. From then on, I was held down like an army prisoner in a foreign country.

So there I was, strapped to the chair, mouth wide open, when there was this doctor poking a needle in me. Ouch! When they were finished, I had so much blood gushing out of my mouth. The mean, cruel aliens (a.k.a. the dentist and his assistant) had put me on pain reliever so strong seeing how my dad had to carry me to the car. I could barely speak at home because I had to keep gauze in my mouth in order stop the blood from leaking. I could barely feel my upper lip, it was so num. On the bright side, I got to eat ice cream for dinner! Next time I have stitches or anything that has to do with Novocain, I am definitely going to sit still!

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