Going to the Dentist is a Great Way to Remember What a Coward You Are

This is my year of Trying Hard Things and I just completed the hardest thing of all - I had my teeth cleaned.

I can feel you rolling your eyes but there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, I dislike more than that twice-a-year cleaning that starts with gag-inducing X-rays and ends with mint-scented grit rubbed into my teeth after my mouth is repeatedly poked with sharp instruments.

Nobody likes going to the dentist, except for my husband. He is that weirdo who enjoys having his teeth cleaned. He skips so joyfully into the dentist's office he reminds me of a kid rushing to the tree on Christmas morning. Who does that?!

Not this girl.

 I arrive at the office with drag-your-feet dread, after changing my appointment 5 gazzilion times. Okay, that's an exaggeration. This time I only rescheduled three times and then I had to stop myself from calling a fourth time and being all, Oh no, I can't come in today because...uhh...my car is in a ditch. And then I swore on my granddaughter's name that I would never change another appointment (because if I learned anything from Survivor, it's that you can totally swear on a family member's name and take it back later.)

To be fair, I've warned the various hygienists (I say "various" because since we moved to Florida, I've never had the same one twice at the same practice) who are about to work on my teeth to expect anxiety because that's how I roll. If you're going to poke around in my mouth, there's going to be stress - for both of us. I suspect the hygienists pass me around the practice like the booby prize. Sue is the new girl. Let's give her Danielle. Har. Har. Kind of like a dental hazing, while the others snickered at poor Sue wrestling with me in the chair while trying for the millionth time to get x-ray film in my mouth without having it gagged back at her. 

I know I cause hygienists stress. One told me that when she sees I'm on her schedule the next day she has trouble sleeping the night before. Maybe we should call each other and discuss a strategy or maybe share a Xanax because the night before an appointment I'm also awake with a pounding heart because Oh NooooOOooOOO, someone is going to put that pointy pick-thing in my mouth.

Then there was a different hygienist who once started my appointment perky but was singing everything about halfway through. You know, that sing-song voice people use when they're trying to sound pleasant but really want to wring your neck?

Now you're probably wondering why I dislike teeth cleanings so much and the answer is: I Don't Know. 

For 40 years I had the kindest dentist and the kindest hygienist (she is the one who had insomnia at the thought of me.) I've never had any dental issues, I've had one cavity all my life, and getting it filled was way easier than a cleaning. There is, as far as I can tell, no reasonable explanation for this ridiculousness. But whatever. All I know is that I'm (knock on wood) free of dental visits until October. YIPPEE!!

After my trauma appointment, I treated myself to a piece of chocolate pie and new shoes for being brave (even though I wasn't) because there's nothing shoe shopping and dessert can't make better. Oh, and later I went to trivia with a few friends. Our team nabbed second place and a $20 gift card so I'd call the day a win.