Restoration

    After the bike accident there were a lot of dental visits.  First to assess the damage and cap the fragment of my tooth.  The tooth died due to significant trauma. Then a root canal, but not immediately, first there were stories of dental nightmares and weeks of unanswerable questions accompanied by constant pain. Anxiety and frustration filled every moment.
     I had to be at the dentists office at 6:30 a.m.  He was a kind man and the procedure was not extremely painful.  It took three hours.  After which I was given a choice: go home or to school.  Umm, yes, let this middle schooler decide.  My face is numb, I watched as a part of my body was removed.  Now completely understanding that part of my body had been killed. Felt a hole drilled into me, watched and smelled the rotten, decaying flesh can be dug out of me.  I chose to go home.
     At 1 p.m. the dentist office called to check on me.  Mom came into my room where I was resting, "Why didn't you go to school?"
     "Dad, gave me a choice."
     "Well the office called and they seemed surprised you were at home.  They said there was no reason for you to be home.''
      "Mom,  I just needed to rest, some peace."
     "Well, it won't be happening again."
Warning:  This conversation took place 25 years ago. The actual words may have been altered by the passage of time but the content and tone remain unchanged.  I do have one question though. Why did the dentist's office call my house to check on me if I should have been at school?