Survivor

And by "survivor", I'm of course describing myself, since I lived to tell the tale my first cavity filling at the dentist this week.

Aren't I brave?

My track record on all things related to doctors, dentists, needles, or anything remotely resembling a medical procedure is not good. Pretty much each encounter over the past, oh I don't know, 26 years has ended in sobbing, kicking, screaming, or fainting. So you can see why I was less than pleased to learn at my dentist appointment last month that I not only had GUM DISEASE (completely sick- let's not even talk about that), but also had A CAVITY.

(very, very dramatic pause)

And having a cavity meant that I had to face one of my biggest fears:

A needle. Filled with Novocaine. Jammed into my sweet (though apparently sickly) and sensitive gums.

POOR ME!

I finally convinced Eric that he had to come with me for THE DREADED PROCEDURE, despite his insistence that I was strong and brave enough to handle this on my own. After all, he said, I manage to face my job each day, and it takes a mighty brave person to do that. True, I said, but I'm still the world's biggest baby and I'm filled to the brim with terror and you don't even KNOW what's going to happen to me if you don't come and WAAAAAAHHHHH!

It went something like that.

And so, he came with me to hold my hand. So nice of him.

After two entire dread-filled weeks, I faced my Worst Day Ever (I once thought that the day I had jury duty was the Worst Day Ever. Turns out, jury duty is pretty great, especially when compared to the dentist. You can see my calendar for proof that I did, in fact, deem both of these days "The Worst Day Ever"). As soon as I walked in, the staff at the dentist's saw they were dealing with a Special Case, and from that point on it was as though I had a big fat "Handle With Care" sticker on my face.

But, the good news is that, because I was seen as Fragile Goods, I really got the royal treatment and was so, so brave (the dentist AND nurses even said so!) I didn't kick ANYONE, nor did I faint, and I only cried a little! I mean a lot! But it was only crying! Not biting, spitting, or yelling!

And now here I am, three days later, still extremely proud of myself and still acting the part of the sick patient (mostly by whining if I accidentally chew on my left side. Not sure if I'll ever chew on that side again. Way too risky) If you remember when I got my wisdom teeth out, this is really a major improvement. GO ME!

In other news, we put up our Christmas tree this week, and Tucky is pretty sure that we've planted a tree that grows toys just for her. It's like the greatest thing she can imagine- a bowl full of water in the middle of the room that she can drink AND a tree full of shiny toys. So, on this cold Saturday with a "wintry mix" falling from the sky, we're sitting enjoying our little tree and drinking some Peach Flips as one last ode to nice weather. This is the life.