Dr. Finch was good, so good in fact, that even though I went through a post-college broke and dental rebellious time of 7 years, my teeth held up great. Then somehow, even though I had insurance, I still went another 7 years. I just really hated going to the dentist. And even after that time span I was fine, but I really really REALLY needed my wisdom teeth pulled. I would go through days of agonizing, jaw/tissue swelling pain where I couldn't even eat a BK fish sandwich, b/c to chew food meant chewing my own gum, literally. So I buckled down and got them yanked. Ready for another hiatus.
But my sweet darling husband put his foot down soon after we got married (fearful I'd take on the appearance of the WV stereotype, I'm sure) and I've been going faithfully ever since.
My current dentist, and his wonderful hygienist (Camille), have almost cured me of my fears. So today, she decided a small trip down memory lane would, for some insane reason, be a good idea. I had to get a full panel of X-rays done, and the newfangled digital contraption was like trying to bite on a metal (ok, plastic) plate that was a few sizes too big for my mouth. Apparently I have this bony protrusion of my lower jaw/front teeth area that was sticking out in the way. So we fidgeted and maneuvered and I bit, rebit, screamed, and almost asked her to just put me out and cut out a permanent wedge of bone so next time we could slide it in like a key card. Ok, that's a tad dramatic. But after all that and I STILL had to sit through the tooth scraping? Give me a break!
So, Camille, this is for you. I will remember this day always ;) (fine print: I love Camille and the dentist, it's a great office and Zach actually looks forward to his appointments. As thrilled as I am that he doesn't have the fear I did as a child, I can't help but think there's something seriously wrong with the child.)
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