Yesterday was my 49th birthday....you know, the one right before you get to the top of the hill, where it's all downhill on the other side? I spent the day with some of the people I love most, as I taught at the learning center. Got lots of hugs from lots of teens that I treasure.
During the last class of the day -- for which I always bring in candy for that needed 4:00 "pick me up" -- I decided I'd treat myself to a little lollipop for my birthday celebration. About halfway through I bit it in half and proceeded to have one of my upper teeth break in half. I quietly put the half tooth and filling in my pocket and taught the rest of the class, but already my mind was swirling. You see, I'm one of those people with an irrational fear of the dentist. I wouldn't quite call it a phobia (I DO have that with frogs, so I know the difference!), but it's right up there on the list. It's been over 30 YEARS since I went to the dentist, and today I know I need to make that call.
We made it home and went out to dinner to celebrate....my family had bought those cards that make you tear up in the restaurant, and then presented me with little gifts back at home -- all of which I loved.
I got a phone message from my VERY best friend in the world, who was not at home to call back, but I smiled throughout the message and felt her love radiating through the wires. Alas, as I went to sleep, the "dentist" thought came back. I actually woke up around 3:00 and have been unable to sleep since; I'm sure that underlying fact is largely responsible. There's not alot of pain, so at first I thought that maybe I'd just let it go, and get used to the wierd feeling of having only half a tooth. However, I'm smart enough to know that MORE problems would come from ignoring the initial problem. And so today I will make the call, and face the grim facts that the next few years will cost TONS of money and all kinds of oral woes.
Happy birthday to me....I arrived at the top of the hill a year early!