Virginia Family Dentistry
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We leave in about an hour to drive to Fort Smith for our semi-annual dental cleaning. Our dentist is wonderful. His name is Wes Moore, DDS. We have gone to him for years now, and he has taken wonderful care of us. His staff is very kind, and the experts who have cleaned our teeth couldn’t have been better. So why the image above?
I’m a wuss. I DREAD going to the dentist to the point I can’t sleep the night before and my stomach is upset right now. I had braces when I was in my teens (but the ‘fix’ didn’t last – even though I wore my retainer as instructed). I didn’t have a cavity until last year. I never had to have anything done, until last year when I also had to have a painful wisdom tooth removed. I have little rational reason for my fear.
We had a dental hygienist named Shannon for years there. She remembered everything you ever said and continued the conversation 6 months later as if it had been yesterday. She was little bitty, pretty as a daffodil and a delight to see (except for her being at the dentist). Suddenly she was gone, killed in a private plane crash with her husband. She exists fondly in my mind, and I forget that we’ve lost such a beautiful person until the next time we get our teeth cleaned, when that fact has to be faced again.
Our current hygienist is a very nice lady. She is gentle as she can be and your teeth are the cleanest you can imagine when she finishes. She remembers that my mom died of oral cancer and that I’m super-anxious about that, so she does the cancer check first, rather than last, so that I can breathe a huge sigh of relief for another 6 months.
Hopefully we can laugh again about my blood pressure being high. I say ‘laugh’ because after the trip from Greenwood to Ft. Smith with my husband driving us in the Vette, my stomach is in knots, I’m nauseous, and it only gets worse as I think about getting home in one piece.
My husband is a good driver, but he still drives as if he’s 25 (picture the chase scene in your favorite movie) not altering his habits, still impatient at all the other drivers that are in his way – ‘dragging their feet.’ We have had ‘discussions’ when we are both calmer, with my suggesting that I would feel a LOT more comfortable if we 1) took the truck instead of the Vette, 2) if he would drive as if I were his little old granny, 3) etc. He thinks I’m overreacting, of course. I remember that he has had two strokes and has had a few problems since then, mainly with backing into things.
Our discussions haven’t made a difference, so I plant my feet strategically, bracing for a crash, hold onto whatever is available, try to say absolutely nothing, and close my eyes when it gets too much, being thankful if we get to where we’re going in one piece, and then back, with no tickets.
If you’re still reading, thanks. :0) If not, that’s okay, too. I’ll talk with you again later – assuming we get back all right.
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