Another trip to the dentist

I just got back from the dentist and all is well in my mouth...for now. I even got a red toothbrush when I was walking out the door. I like my dentist ( as I think he is very thorough and the work that he has done in my mouth has been great. I think he has filled a couple of cavities and I have been happy with him.

All this to say that I "hate" going to the dentist. Now I have never been accused of having a movie-star smile and I have more than my share of fillings (less and less as the years have gone on) and that is probably why I have the angst I do at the thought of the visit to the dentist. I know this is my doing, but there it is.
For me it always seemed like the day of reckoning. The judge looks into my mouth and declares the verdict on the previous six months of brushing and flossing, and I was always concerned that a cavity was going to be found. Was this really an issue? I had been through plenty of fillings and didn't even mind the novacaine shot all that much. No matter - the dreaded words would send me into private hysteria.

Now if I was diligent in brushing and flossing over the past six months, wouldn't everything check out fine? Yes. But that kind of logic was lost on me because, as lazy as I tend to be, (insert understatement here) I was never very exacting in how I took care of my teeth. Now that has changed in recent years, but it was never a priority for me no matter how much my parents wanted it to be.

So, deep breaths, relax the bottom lip, and make sure there's no white-knuckle grip on the chair...and he'll see me again in March.


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