Love/Hate

I really like our dentist. He's a nice Christian man; he's personable, kind, and gentle.

I hate going to the dentist. It doesn't really matter that he's personable, kind and gentle if he hurts me. And he does.

My appointment today was for one filling, but since he had a cancelation, he said he could do both fillings today. One was on top, and the other was on the bottom on the same side. I was so tense during the whole thing. He kept reminding me to breathe. And I was shaking. The assistant commented afterward that she could tell how much I disliked the whole process. She said most people either hate the anesthesia or the drilling, but clearly, I am an equal opportunity hater.

I came home and climbed into bed. Me and my droopy face. Over 5 hours later, I was still feeling the effects. My face just below my eye all the way down my neck to my collar bone throbbed. The inside of my mouth is very tender, the muscles in my neck are sore, and I can't eat solids until noon tomorrow. He will probably have to grind the one filling down a hair as it's not allowing my teeth on the other side to meet. But he was afraid to "knock it down" any more than he did for fear it would crack.

But I got it over at one time, and I won't have to endure the stress a second time in one week.

Wednesday, Allison gets her teeth cleaned and checked for the first time. I sure hope she doesn't have any cavities. And I hope she has inherited her father's affinity for the dentist.

It was 9 pm, and I told my son to put on his overnight pull-up when I remembered...he was out of pullups. So I had to run to Walmart and get back before DH needed to leave for work.

Before he left, he told me to go to bed early, but I did get a nap this afternoon. And it's hard for me to go to bed too early when he's on last shift.