I went to the dentist Dec. 26 in Enterprise after 30 years overseas. I had gone to dentists occasionally, but the latest was about three years ago. The hygienist was very friendly and relaxed me completely, explaining all the possibilities, etc. Another dentist came in briefly to confer with her and to make sure all was clear. After he left, I asked her again what his name was. She noticed I was taking notes, and so offered to write down her name and the doctor’s name and she did. We set up an appointment for several weeks later. Then we cordially said goodbye.

I should mention this is in small-town, rural America where people tend to have your back. I live on a farm with my sister and she is continually taking me to one farm or another because the farmers had to leave for a few days (for their children’s graduation from college or marriage in another state, etc.) and needed someone to feed their animals (dogs, cats, sheep, goats, lamas, horses, etc.) or water their gardens, get their mail, etc.

The nearest village is a few miles away and has one coffee shop that is basically the center of the town, run by three generations of mostly women in the same family, who greatly resemble the caregiving I was getting in the dentist interview.

In my dentist appointment, the woman who wrote the names down for me did a good job and all correctly. But sometimes our minds read into things that are not there. She, the hygienist, wrote perfectly well, but the “y” to my mind quickly became a “u” and lost its tail, thus becoming “hugienist,” which for me translated to “hug-ist,” which basically well described the whole neighborly and friendly atmosphere.

I was never physically hugged there, but the way they took their time to explain things and show that they cared greatly for even first-time patients makes us feel hugged mentally and supported greatly. The message was felt: “We are here for your well-becoming.”

Tim Murphey

Lostine