A few weeks ago I took Devan to the dentist and as fate would have it, the person after him canceled so I ended up being seen for the first time in years. For the first time since I had those eleven cavities filled. And eleven, unfortunately, is no typo. In the time since having the eleventh cavity filled I’ve been blessed by a pregnancy and spent a good half year vomitting all day and not exactly worrying a whole lot about my teeth. And then I did really good for a bit, and then Leah was born and I fell asleep on the couch holding her while eating chips, or drinking tea, or why lie?, consuming an entire bag of chocolates. I knew it wasn’t going to be good news so it came as no suprise that I had managed to grow four additional cavities.
The morning of the “great blizzard” (sarcasm) I went to get the last two filled and just like the week before did the first tooth without Novocain. It’s not pleasant, but it’s the way I always do it and it’s better than that Novocain. And I’m tougher than I often get credit for. Halfway through the very last cavity the pain was creeping incredibly close to my threshold. I had my eyes closed, sweat pouring off of my forehead, shivering, and my hands were digging into my legs so hard I’m pretty sure there were marks. She stopped drilling and I knew it, I had to do the shot. And do you know what? I sobbed and bawled like a little kid. They had to get me a kleenex. I was a disaster and it was mortifying. The technician even stepped out, likely to give me some privacy. I think they were in disbelief that I let her drill 3 cavities with no pain meds and then melted down over the Novocain shot. She tried to reassure me that I would be suprised by how many people lose it over the shot. I’ll bet. I’ll bet lots of second graders have trouble with it.
Anyways. I survived and came home, embarrassed but at least I was done with the dentist for awhile. I vowed to floss three times a day and throw away every piece of candy in the house. Now I could focus on the million other things wrong with me and upcoming appointments with specialists, and new medications, and new medications for the side effects of the first medications. The important stuff.
And then today, a bad day of epic proportions, today I bite down into my pre-lunch snack and half of my very back molar just cracks right off, leaving my giant silver filling precariously exposed. Guess where I am going in an hour? To the dentist. Guess what they are going to do to me? Give me a shot. Guess what I am going to do? Cry.
I mean it, I’m done with sugar. Done, I tell you, done. Forever.
And granola bars too.