With a shrug, she replied, “I guess because it’s such a staple of America.”
“My parents g-grew up in Russia, so they stayed with t-the food they had as kids. Irina, my stepmother, was born in America, so my siblings ate it. I just never liked it.”
“Okay, then. Let me shift gears. What’s a Russian food you might eat that would get stuck to the roof of your mouth?”
“Pastila.”
“Hmm, from my limited Spanish, I would guess that it was some sort of pastry?”
Nodding, I replied, “It’s made with mashed apples, sugar, and egg whites, but the consistency is like a marshmallow type.”
“Sounds yummy.”
I smiled. “I’ll have to get you some from the Russian bakery.”
“I would love that.” Tapping the table, she said, “Okay, you have somepastilaon the roof of your mouth and need to push it away.”
At my frown, Sarah laughed. “I need you to pretend for me, Maksim.”
“Fine. What should I do?”
“So, put your tongue right behind her teeth on the ovular ridge and push straight back to your palate and get all of it off.”
As I did as I was told, Sarah watched my progress. “Nice. Now I want you to bite down so I can check your bite.”
Her gloved finger slid into my mouth to check both sides of my teeth. “And open your mouth, and I’ll check the ridges on your palate.”
After opening wide, Sarah slid her finger along the roof of my mouth. When I jumped, she grinned. “Sorry, it can tickle a little.”
With her finger rubbing the roof of my mouth, I couldn’t respond. “You have a very nice palatal arch,” Sarah remarked before pulling her forefinger out.
“So far, so g-good, huh?”
She nodded. “We’ll check your breath pressure, and then we’ll be done.”
After handing me the pinwheel, Sarah said, “I want you to blow as hard as you can.”
When I put everything I had into moving the wheel, Sarah nodded. “Nice job.”
And even though it hadn’t occurred to me, Sarah held up a finger. “And spare me a remark about your blow job abilities."
I laughed. “I’m usually on the receiving end of t-those.”
When she realized her mistake, pink colored her cheeks. “Whatever.”
“So what’s the verdict, Doc?”
With a regretful look, Sarah replied, “Everything looks good, Maksim, so there’s not any physical impediment causing you to stutter.”
Although the news stung, I’d been expecting it. It’d been a false hope to think that after all these years there would be some miracle cure.
Nodding my head, I replied, “Okay. What now?”
“I’ll focus your treatment on specifically targeting your trigger letters, which are b, g, and t’s. But first, we’ll start with the CBT aspects of treatment.”
“Yes, I read a lot about t-that in your journals.”
She smiled. “Then I can assume you know a little about the Method of Three’s.”
