All kinds of things....
Tuesday, February 12th, 2008 10:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntbijouI have deleted my journals on Greatestjournal, and moved my family journal to Insanejournal. If I had any doubts, today would have decided me, because when I logged into GJ, I found that I was down to one icon... which was nonexistant. So, bye-bye GJ!!
In other news, I went to the dentist today. The next two visits will pretty much clear me out of seeing the dentist except on an emergency basis for the next year, as I will total what is allowed for me. Yes, I'm a mom, and we didn't have decent dental insurance until recently, and everyone else came before me, because... that's what moms do.
Plus, I'm a big chicken when it comes to the dentist.
I had the Dentist From Hell when I was very small. My dad was working in the oil fields, and though he had medical insurance... he didn't have dental. So, when I got a huge, screaming cavity (and I have never eaten Tootsie Rolls since... that's been about forty years), my parents could only find one dentist willing to see me without insurance. And he didn't like kids. I was about four.
I remember lots and lot of pain, a LOT of blood, screaming, and having him tell me to stop being such a baby about it. I also remember watching my dad's fist connect with the dentist's jaw over my head. And an emergency room visit. For me. Because he cut a blood vessel in my mouth with his drill, which was why I was screaming.
Yeah, I have issues.
By the next year, though, Dad had come in out of the field, and started working in the office for the oil company, and he got better medical insurance, and he got really good dental insurance. So, my parents found a really good dentist, a small, gentle man who worked very hard to ease my fears, and reassure me that he would never hurt me intentionally, and would do everything he could to keep it from hurting. He even got me over my phobia about the drills.
So, while I am a huge, huge chicken about going to the dentist, I do go, and though I sometimes want to faint, or cry while I'm in the chair, I don't, and I stay there. I stay, and I also return for more treatment. I suffer major anxiety attacks while there, but I do it. Kudos to me.
This new dentist isn't so bad, though he does remind me uncomfortably of the dentists I saw in boot camp, most of whom are very no nonsense, and don't put up with a lot, and aren't very patient. And... he's big. He's ginormous. He could hold me down with one big hand planted in my chest, and all I would be able to do is squirm and whimper.
Fortunately, he's a very nice guy, if a bit dry. And his assistant is the sort of person who tells you how wonderfully you're doing, and holds your hand when you're taking slow deep breaths and trying not to cry.
Yes, I am a complete and total wuss. At least, when I'm sitting in the dentist's chair.
I've got a couple of cracked molars that don't hurt... yet. But they will. Soon. So it was best to get them taken care of BEFORE they start hurting. Plus, y'all know I have a stupidly high pain threshold, so... it probably does hurt, but... I haven't noticed it yet.
I just wish the Husbandly One could take off and hold my hand while I'm going through it. Or at least sit out in the waiting room. That would be comforting.
Well, I have errands to run. I hope y'all are all having a considerably better day than I am. Oh, did I mention my internet is being... balky? And I'm trying to get used to a new keyboard? It's very stiff, and pokey, and driving me nuts. Anyways, later, y'all!
In other news, I went to the dentist today. The next two visits will pretty much clear me out of seeing the dentist except on an emergency basis for the next year, as I will total what is allowed for me. Yes, I'm a mom, and we didn't have decent dental insurance until recently, and everyone else came before me, because... that's what moms do.
Plus, I'm a big chicken when it comes to the dentist.
I had the Dentist From Hell when I was very small. My dad was working in the oil fields, and though he had medical insurance... he didn't have dental. So, when I got a huge, screaming cavity (and I have never eaten Tootsie Rolls since... that's been about forty years), my parents could only find one dentist willing to see me without insurance. And he didn't like kids. I was about four.
I remember lots and lot of pain, a LOT of blood, screaming, and having him tell me to stop being such a baby about it. I also remember watching my dad's fist connect with the dentist's jaw over my head. And an emergency room visit. For me. Because he cut a blood vessel in my mouth with his drill, which was why I was screaming.
Yeah, I have issues.
By the next year, though, Dad had come in out of the field, and started working in the office for the oil company, and he got better medical insurance, and he got really good dental insurance. So, my parents found a really good dentist, a small, gentle man who worked very hard to ease my fears, and reassure me that he would never hurt me intentionally, and would do everything he could to keep it from hurting. He even got me over my phobia about the drills.
So, while I am a huge, huge chicken about going to the dentist, I do go, and though I sometimes want to faint, or cry while I'm in the chair, I don't, and I stay there. I stay, and I also return for more treatment. I suffer major anxiety attacks while there, but I do it. Kudos to me.
This new dentist isn't so bad, though he does remind me uncomfortably of the dentists I saw in boot camp, most of whom are very no nonsense, and don't put up with a lot, and aren't very patient. And... he's big. He's ginormous. He could hold me down with one big hand planted in my chest, and all I would be able to do is squirm and whimper.
Fortunately, he's a very nice guy, if a bit dry. And his assistant is the sort of person who tells you how wonderfully you're doing, and holds your hand when you're taking slow deep breaths and trying not to cry.
Yes, I am a complete and total wuss. At least, when I'm sitting in the dentist's chair.
I've got a couple of cracked molars that don't hurt... yet. But they will. Soon. So it was best to get them taken care of BEFORE they start hurting. Plus, y'all know I have a stupidly high pain threshold, so... it probably does hurt, but... I haven't noticed it yet.
I just wish the Husbandly One could take off and hold my hand while I'm going through it. Or at least sit out in the waiting room. That would be comforting.
Well, I have errands to run. I hope y'all are all having a considerably better day than I am. Oh, did I mention my internet is being... balky? And I'm trying to get used to a new keyboard? It's very stiff, and pokey, and driving me nuts. Anyways, later, y'all!
