by Marie A. Kelson
Bloomsbury, New Jersey USA
I was 15, still in the throes of those teenage years, and full of rebellion and independence. But in reality I was running scared, as were most young girls my age. My mother was a single mom doing her best to cope with raising a family of one boy and five girls by working long hours in a laundry, and by staying up most of the night sewing clothes for all of us. But there was little time for expression of physical affection and individual attention.
I had developed an abscess in my bottom front teeth, and the decision was made to remove three teeth and the abscess. I had to go alone. I was frightened, but I knew it had to be done — so off I went.
Putting patients to sleep was not an option at this dentist. I made myself sit down in the chair, closed my eyes, and tried not to think of what was going on. About halfway through the procedure I was comforted to feel the nurse’s two warm hands on my own, where they remained until the work was done. Susan, I am sure, could feel my fear and sense of abandonment. I am sure tears flowed down my face as I was so moved by this reaching out of one human being to another.
Losing three front teeth was traumatic for a 15-year-old girl, but the missing teeth were easily hidden by my bottom lip. The operation was done during the summer with no school, so initially it was not embarassing socially. However, the cost of a bridge to replace the missing teeth was a serious consideration.
Welfare in the sense it is known today did not exist. All six of us children worked from a young age, doing whatever we could to earn money for our extras, and occasionally helping out with the family expenses. When we were very young we earned money by gathering and selling newspapers and rags, and by baby-sitting when older. I had been baby-sitting for quite a while and saving money to buy a used bike, so my bike money and contributions from my mother were put together. Our very kind dentist allowed us to pay by installment, which was accepted in those days before credit cards. Thus I had a bridge before I returned to school in the fall.
Susan’s loving touch was very important to me, indeed it meant so much that many years later I can still feel it. I never personally thanked Susan for her kindness, but I know she understood. Such a small gesture on her part brought great comfort to me in a highly stressful situation, a comfort which will last a lifetime. Thank you, Susan, wherever you are.
1 thought on “A Caring Touch”
A very touching story I can well imagine your feelings I always had to go alone myself this story will assist many a person going thru the same experience
Susan was a valued employee I can tell and had a great on you and your future life May there be many more Susan’s about