Tomorrow I am facing one of my biggest fears…the dentist. More accurately the oral surgeon, who will be ripping my wisdom teeth from my mouth while I lay, helplessly unconscious. Now without getting too dramatic 🙂 let me just tell you that since I was tiny I have had a horrible fear and queasiness to all things related to dental hygiene and teeth. I can brush my teeth and get them cleaned twice a year but anything beyond that makes my stomach do flip-flops and me knees feel weak. I remember when a little girl I babysat proudly showed me her loose tooth. In return I nearly showed her all the contents of my stomach. Yeah, it’s really that bad. Seriously, you can ask my mom.
So when my wisdom teeth starting coming in say, six years ago, a month before our wedding, I did a little bit of panicking. But when they didn’t come in any further and weren’t causing my other teeth to hurt I decided we would just ignore each other. It seemed like a good arrangement to me, but those little turds didn’t honor their side of the bargain! About two years ago my dentist took x-rays and informed me that while my wisdom teeth were not coming in they were turning sideways and starting to push my other teeth. Ugh! I hate promise breakers!
So two consultations and a baby later here I am on the eve of the most traumatic event of my life. Yes, I do consider this more traumatic than having a baby…naturally. At least God intended women to have babies. Did he intend for us to have our teeth yanked from our mouths? I think not. (BTW this will be one of my first questions when I get to heaven, “Why? Why wisdom teeth God?”) The funny thing is, I don’t really know what I am afraid of. Kris asked me the other night when I was being dramatic about this, “What are you afraid of?” I couldn’t really answer him. Well okay, actually I told him I was afraid that they’d give me anesthesia and then I would be asleep but still be able to feel everything but not be able to wake up and tell them, “Holy hell that hurts! ” He said that never happens. So, once that was addressed and I was still fearful I couldn’t really explain why. It’s not the pain. I have a high pain tolerance. It’s not the recovery and looking like a rhinoceros stepped on my face. I look like that most mornings anyway. No, I don’t really know what I’m afraid of.
So I decided two things this weekend. One: I have to do this (or so my dentist says…I’m still suspicious of him and his motives) so I need to just buck up and do it. Two: I am not going to let fear, especially unreasonable fear, limit or control my life. There are always those “what-ifs” that pop into the realm of possibility anytime I do anything. What if I fall down the stairs and break my neck? What if a texting maniac rams into my car in the turning lane? What if my hair never goes back to those big curls I once hated but now miss? What if my kids decide I’m not cool when I sing and dance with them? What if California falls into the ocean and Texas decides to become it’s own sovereign nation? Alas, there is nothing I can do to stop (or encourage) these things to happen, so why waste energy on them?
So come tomorrow, think of me. I will report back to you on my procedure and recovery. Who knows maybe I’ll even have some crazy awesome dreams while I’m under. 🙂