We managed to get a pediatrician to examine Duncan today at the children's hospital dental department. It was awful and wonderful. Duncan was highly stressed and didn't want to go into any of the rooms. He just kept shouting out, saying he wanted a 'Brio Percy' (his latest train request) and I was desperately and uselessly trying to distract and entertain him. We were asked into the examination room very shortly after arriving, and I had to prise is fingers from the doorway, so adamant was he that he wasn't going in. He was literally terrified. I held him on my knee and the doctor was able to stick the little mirror into his open mouth and in less than 30 seconds had seen enough to know what treatment was needed. By this stage I was actually in tears, so I took Duncan into the corridor while Gordon had a quick word with the doctor. I was feeling a bit embarrassed (with myself) and very, very sorry for my poor boy. He was crying, telling me he was so sad, shouting out that he was finished. I started spelling out train names on an alphabet poster on the wall as I sat on the floor holding him. He noticed what I was doing and helped me finish a few words and was then over the outburst.
Now I said earlier that it was also wonderful. What I mean is, the staff were amazing. They were so understanding. It turns out that Duncan's molar is dodgy, it developed incorrectly, but it isn't decayed and the rest of his teeth are in excellent condition. He does need an extraction though, and he has been fitted into their Friday list which is excellent. The doctor assured us that Duncan would be seen first (as usually there can be a 1 or 2 hour wait) and to cut back on the hassle on the day, Gordon was able to fill in most of the nursing paperwork today (after Duncan had calmed down and was happily eating nuts and watching TV in the waiting room) and he will not be put through a further examination, which usually takes place before the procedure. We need to arrive at 8am, he should be seen at around 9 and we were told we'd be leaving at 9.15. I felt close to tears again when I saw how much they were willing to do to cause as little trauma to Duncan as possible. Gordon was moved by their caring attitude too. Duncan wasn't impressed though; when the consultant came to talk to us in the waiting room, Duncan put his hands over his ears and very directly told him to go away.
While we were at the hospital, Lady and Thomas were being looked after by my dad and step mum, who live close to the hospital. The children all love going there to visit and having an appreciative audience to show off to. Thomas took a few dressing up clothes and his trusty snakes and ladders board. My dad is so helpful. He dropped us off at the hospital and picked us up again to save us needing to find a parking space, then (after we'd all eaten some of their delicious home-made vegetable soup) he drove Gordon back to his hospital as he had to go back to work.
It's all rather stressful and I'm dreading Friday, because no matter what, it is going to be hard on him. But we'll get through it together. He's a tough boy. He's my darling angel, who right now, is lying beside me on my bed, having just fallen asleep with his arm around me as I've been typing.