This morning I went to the dentist for the first time in… hmmm… well, I will leave that date unknown b/c you will forever think differently of me… let’s just say it was 2 degrees ago. ACK! I’m scared of the dentist… please stop judging me. For whatever reason I picture this in my head… (probably b/c I got my wisdom teeth taken out while I was awake… and 14 teeth pulled when I was a kid… but that’s another story…)
The idea of going to the dentist when I don’t have to? No thank you.
But…finally, my conscious got the best of me and after a long time I made an appointment for a cleaning this morning.
Understandably, I was convinced that I would have major cavities, a gloomy diagnosis of gum disease, and the need for 2 or 3 root canals. I showed up with sweaty palms, a trembling spirit and a high heart rate. As the hygienist sat me down, I said, “I’m kind of terrified here.” She told me to not be scared and that she would be very gentle. She then pointed me to the television ON THE CEILING (what??) where I quickly turned the volume up way louder than the machines in my mouth and proceeded to get lost in Robin Roberts’ amazing biceps and Kelly Ripa’s Live with Kelly from Hawaii. Before I knew it the cleaning was over. I was impressed… it didn’t hurt, no taste of blood in my mouth… things were looking good…
The dentist came in shortly after. As he examined my x-rays, and poked around on each tooth, I braced myself… “Here we go.” I thought, “The hygienist was sparing me. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news…the diagnosis will be bad… very bad…” Then the dentist said, “Well… your teeth are pretty much in perfect condition.” I literally sat up with my bib still attached, and said, “What??? Me?? No way.” He said, “Yep, one filling popped out but other than that you’re good!” At which point I hugged them both, jumped up and down and claimed them all as my new BFF’s. Not really…but pretty darn close. I left the office with a pep in my step, a belief that I could conquer the world, and an inflated sense of self. On the way home I stared down everyone I saw and tried to telepathically impress them with my lack of cavities…. And then I went and got a Dr. Pepper to celebrate. Sixty-four grams of sugar seemed like an appropriate reward for such an accomplishment.
Cheers to the kind folks at East Side Smiles!