Finding a New Dentist Can Be Like Pulling Teeth

 Finding a New Dentist 

Can Be Like Pulling Teeth

Memory of my first dentist is of a cowboy named Webb Davis. We lived in Tucson, Arizona. Webb, that is…Dr. Davis, had a flat tire. That’s how my dad came to know him.

Thinking he was a poor, tired ranch hand, my dad stopped to help him. The two men hit it off as did their wives. The Davis’ had three children. Their daughter was a bit older than me, but not by much. The boys were younger. I was only four or five at the time. But what I remember most about having Webb Davis as my dentist were his boots. He always wore honest-to-goodness cowboy boots. I was in awe. I wanted to be a cowgirl and ride in the rodeo more than anything back then. It didn’t happen. We were living back in Ohio before I got my first pony. 

When we lived in Florida, the Waters family recommended Hugh Tyler as a dentist for me. I was engaged to Tom Waters at the time. 

So, Dr. Tyler, who lived on the same road as the Waters’ became my dentist. He came highly recommended and I knew his son, Mike and his daughter Cindy from school.

Still, I squeezed my eyes shut. Going to the dentist is not my favorite activity in life.

Tom and I moved to Ohio in 1978. We met a wonderful couple at church with two girls near our daughters’ ages. Dave and Linda became friends.  And Dave Nelson, well established as a dentist in our community, became my dentist. 

If you are one of my readers, you know Tom died in 2014. I moved to a new house and community in 2017 and two months later I moved to Kosovo to teach for a year. 

Dr. Dave closed his office during COVID. 

In 2023, I married Mike Tyler. Yep…the son of Dr. Hugh Tyler. Mike and I moved to Citrus County, Florida. We bought a house, settled into our new marriage, and started a new course in our lives. 

Then it happened. While eating, I felt something hard in my food. It was part of an old filling. Mike and I were living in a new community. For the first time in my life, I had to find a new dentist in a new town. On my own.

I did a quick search on the internet for dentists in the area. There were many. I was still contemplating what to do when, while at the grocery store one day, I saw a sign.

A sign. Not a vision…an honest-to -goodness sign next door to Winn-Dixie.

 All it said was “Dentist.” Nothing pretentious. Nothing showy. No pictures of teenagers with big smiles and gleaming teeth. No photos of models in silk dresses, dripping with diamonds, and sparkling white teeth.

Simply “Dentist.” I went inside and made an appointment. It turns out they are great. They use the newest technology. My first visit was for a full mouth evaluation. The second was to address the broken tooth. 

I don’t mind shopping for Christmas presents. I don’t mind the weekly grocery shopping. I can even find joy in probing around antique stores or the Dollar Tree...it doesn’t matter. 

I simply don’t like shopping for a dentist. 

Me? I just wait for a “sign.”