The Medicine of a Sensitive Sister
Sometimes the medicine isn’t a procedure. It’s someone sitting beside you long enough for you to try again.
Can a Knocked-Out Tooth Be Saved? Is It Worth It?
“A smile as big as her face.”
That’s how friends, family, and teachers described Abby’s radiant, engaged presence.
When she withheld her smile and became self-conscious, I was crushed.
I felt responsible.
Until yesterday.
She and her big sister danced through the front door—giddy, joking—with the kind of pride earned by facing fear with patience and love.
Libby’s nurse (Abby’s twin) had called to say she needed to end her shift on time. I was at Home Depot, collecting final supplies for a kitchen remodel. I texted her from the driveway,
“You can go. I’m home, unloading the car.”
The house was quiet when I walked in—until I heard a thump.
I ran to the back bedroom. The room was dimly lit. Libby was safe in her bed. Abby stood in the bathroom holding a wad of bloody toilet tissue. She wasn’t crying, but her mouth was bleeding.
“I tripped on Libby’s wheelchair. I’m okay,” she said, hiding the evidence.
Abby, legally blind, doesn’t have peripheral vision. She’d fallen face-first onto the hardwood floor. Her front tooth was gone. Half of the second one was missing.
Given my history with sibling collisions and barroom brawls, I remembered what to do in cases like this: Get the milk and don’t panic.
Tooth Replacement Success (ideally):
Rinse (don’t scrub) the tooth and store it in milk or saline
If treated within one hour, it can sometimes be reinserted and stabilized with a splint
After that, success decreases, yet some ERs and dentists still try
By the time I found her missing tooth in the trash, it was 8 PM. The only on-call dentist was 45 minutes away. He suggested the ER.
Maybe it was guilt that drove me. I should’ve been home. The aisles should’ve been clear. The lights should’ve been on. The shitload of shoulds that bombarded me.
Abby was calm—until the ER team pinned her down to force the tooth back in.
“Stop!” I yelled. “You’re hurting her.”
The trauma of the ER was worse than the fall.
After that, she shut down. She clamped her mouth shut, refused to brush, and wouldn’t let anyone near her teeth.
At her next dental appointment, she kicked Dr. Roller square in the chest. He rolled across the room in his chair.
Dr. Walker refused to see her after a similar blow.
“I’m ready to retire. My colleague, Dr. Sensitive, is better suited for this.”
He was right.
Dr. Sensitive took time to build trust. She learned Abby’s likes and dislikes and introduced a gentle desensitization plan. Each visit, Abby relaxed a little more. She eventually bonded with the hygienist. They talked about movies and music while Abby slowly opened her mouth to receive care.
She was almost ready for a new tooth when the pandemic hit.
Dr. Sensitive left dentistry, moved to L.A., and went to law school.
Abby shut down again. Brushing her teeth became the chore of the century.
We did not give up. Autumn, her older sister, moved back home and announced herself as Abby’s “hygiene buddy.” They bought quadrant timer toothbrushes and Waterpiks, and went to appointments together.
My hands were tied. Plaque built up. Her front tooth remained missing.
After a few gentle visits, observing Autumn with Dr. Sadhu, Abby was ready to try again.
Yesterday, she had her first full cleaning since 2019.
She’s smiling again. Sparkling. Beaming with confidence. She feels different—like she just won a golden ticket to her original joy and dignity, unmistakably home in her body.
We’re not rushing the replacement procedure.
One step at a time.
✨ Dear Generous Readers, old and new,
Thank you for being here, commenting, and sharing. Your 💜 makes me smile—hugely. I leave you with bell hooks (on healing + love)
“Rarely, if ever, are any of us healed in isolation. Healing is an act of communion.”
🌟 Do you have a story of someone sitting beside you long enough for you to try again, or the time(s) you held someone’s hand through a scary time?
P.S. Wish us luck as Libby is next. The dental work she needs is considered oral surgery that requires anesthesia, because she can’t keep her mouth open or control her saliva. She hasn’t had any pharmaceuticals since her birth. Next step.
Special thanks for your kind comments on Libby’s laughter. I have met so many amazing creators on Substack. Inspired by
(who know Abby’s smile) and so many more.Thank you. 💫
With Love, Prajna @PrajnaOhara.com
✨ Join our upcoming events:
New Moon Gathering for Women, Wednesday, April 30. Online
Retreats in Vermont (2 spaces) and England.
My First Post is Inspired by Disability
"I can’t help but let my first post be about ‘The Unstoppable Abby.’
She is gorgeous. It's surprisingly difficult to find pediatric specialists who are patient with kids who have different abilities / neurodivergent. Their sensitivity only goes so far, it's very sad. I'm glad you both found someone you can trust. Going to the dentist is hard enough!
Absolutely brilliant💥