When you tell most children that they have an upcoming appoint with the dentist, they revolt, throw tantrums, and horrendously cry, especially when they arrive and hear the menacing drill ready to attack. However, as with most situations in my life, I was not like the other children; I was – and to be honest, still am – excited to arrive at Dr. Herbert Portnoff’s practice, welcomed by the cheery staff, free stickers, and of course, the happy and humble dentist himself. As a young person, I remember my parents having an extremely close relationship with Dr. Portnoff and I recall sitting in his office with my parents, talking about everything but my oral care. For me, these moments were not peculiar, and if anything, they were quite amusing and
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Portnoff until I was twelve years old. Sitting on our rugged, tan couch in the family room on a rainy August afternoon, my parents informed me that I had been adopted from Kazakhstan when I was four months old. Of course, there were tears and questions to be asked, but I had finally realized why I was the only person in our entire brown-eyed family with green eyes and why my parents had such a close relationship with Dr. Portnoff. My mother informed me that the orphanage in which I resided lacked funding and could not provide the greatest healthcare to the children it housed. For me, one of my most prominent and noticeable health issues upon arriving in America was my oral care; unclean gums sabotaged my tooth development, among many other issues of which I am not fully aware. When my parents first brought me to Dr. Portnoff he was understandably upset with how (he thought) my parents cared for me, and, once they defensively informed him of my adoption, how the orphanage had failed to care for the health of the children. After hearing of this story, I recognized why I want to be a dentist: to be a mentor to a community, to serve others and solve problems through science and art, and to give other people the attention, care, and passion that Dr. Portnoff had given
Portnoff until I was twelve years old. Sitting on our rugged, tan couch in the family room on a rainy August afternoon, my parents informed me that I had been adopted from Kazakhstan when I was four months old. Of course, there were tears and questions to be asked, but I had finally realized why I was the only person in our entire brown-eyed family with green eyes and why my parents had such a close relationship with Dr. Portnoff. My mother informed me that the orphanage in which I resided lacked funding and could not provide the greatest healthcare to the children it housed. For me, one of my most prominent and noticeable health issues upon arriving in America was my oral care; unclean gums sabotaged my tooth development, among many other issues of which I am not fully aware. When my parents first brought me to Dr. Portnoff he was understandably upset with how (he thought) my parents cared for me, and, once they defensively informed him of my adoption, how the orphanage had failed to care for the health of the children. After hearing of this story, I recognized why I want to be a dentist: to be a mentor to a community, to serve others and solve problems through science and art, and to give other people the attention, care, and passion that Dr. Portnoff had given