Endodontist

A Dentist’s Reflection

Every day, I peer into mouths, uncovering stories—coffee stains from late nights, chips from reckless bites, the grind of stress on enamel. Teeth don’t lie. A child’s first wiggly incisor, a elder’s well-worn molars—each holds a life.

My tools are precise: explorer, mirror, drill. But trust is the real instrument. A flinch, a white-knuckled grip—I slow down. “Breathe,” I murmur.

Cavities are battles. Cleanings are preventions. A smile restored? Pure joy.

Yet, behind masks, we’re human too. We see fear, vanity, neglect, pride. But when a patient grins freely post-op? That’s why we do this.