Iron will

The DARKNESS,

the scary noises.

The awful smells,

the ANXIETY!!

Can you guess?

Let me tell you.

I visited Dr. Pain this morning.

This is the name my dad gives to the dentist. ANY dentist.

I have inherited his fondness for this particular branch of medicine.

See? There I am, all gussied up in my fabulous boots, ready for a day at the spa.

They say that looking good is half the battle, right? So with no where else to go, I fancied myself up and showed up three minutes early, talking myself right into believing this would be as good as a day at the spa.

Why did I trick myself into thinking this thought?
THIS was my only friend.

There is not much dignity in 'rinsing and spitting,' but when you have to do it in front of two other people with your mouth all numb, the dignity of this act rivals giving birth.

Seriously, I came home with a sore back, headache and the need for a nap.

I try not to do it--get myself worked up about being in 'the chair,' that is... but it's HARD. I brought a good book, but what was I thinking? Did I think there would be time to relax and enjoy holding a book in front of my face?

Silly me.

The only things in front of my face were too scary to look at.

So I kept my eyes SHUT.

The entire time.

I honestly thought I was becoming the next 'big dig' project.

Not fun.

AND, boys and girls, I will also tell you this: The whole time I was suffering, I was repeating the following mantra in my head:

"I will NEVER eat another grain of sugar. EVER!! I will brush and floss after every meal, snack and thought of a meal or a snack."

I walked out of there sure that I was going to spend the next week sipping tepid broth and avoiding anything chewy, sticky, crunchy, hot or cold. Or sweet.

And maybe even the next month.

When I got to my good friend's house to pick up Mr. M, he was eating lunch. She offered me some, but the fact that 9/10ths of my mouth was numb and malfunctioning, sort of curbed the craving.

HOWEVER. By the time I walked in the door to home, stoked the fire and fired up the computer, the need for something sugarish was BAD.

So I raided the secret stash.

Aahhhh.....

there is something to be said for shoving down carbs and chocolate when you're living through post traumatic anxiety dental syndrome.

Maybe I should go find some floss.

So much for resolve.