anything once: being rescued after getting a cavity filled

Last December, Emily posted about getting her first cavity fillings. Last week, I had my first. I wish I could say it went as well as Emily, but I couldn't get to either Emily's friend Stefanie or our beloved Mark Nadler, being that I live hours and hours away from both of them. And I really can't blame anything on my dentist either, I think she and her staff did a fine job. And thankfully, she had office staff that were much more compassionate than Emily experienced and described in this post earlier this week. Nevertheless, it was rough. But I am a blessedmama who had some sweet angels come to my rescue.

I made it several decades without a cavity. For some reason, I had it in my mind that only kids got cavities, or that only adults who'd gotten cavities as kids got more cavities. Somehow I convinced myself I was free and clear. I focussed my dental hygiene on the health of my gums, which is usually what gets me in trouble. So when I sat down in the chair and started to hear that my gums looked fantastic, I was stunned and so very proud of myself. I couldn't wait to get home and brag. But then the dentist closed out the session with, "Oh, yep, looks like you might have a little cavity, so I'll see you in a few days to fill that in," like it was part of her farewell, she practically ended with a "Lates!" and walked away, me sitting there befuddled and confused.  

I tried to play it cool. My husband had been to the same dentist and also had a filling just a matter of days prior and he was super chill about it all, so I decided there was nothing to get worked up about. I just focussed on not forgetting the appointment. I showed up and still didn't even understand what it meant to "get a filling." (in fact, I had to have my husband explain it to me at the end of the day, well after the procedure) I just planned to go with the flow. 

So she's friendly, quick, professional. She numbs me, which I didn't realize was a precursor to big needles, so I only averted my eyes after it was too late to get nervous. [goes to show you, I should read my own blog more carefully and take better notes about all Emily has to say!] She proceeds to give me the shot, which felt really painful. So much for the numbing. We wait. She tests me out with little pokey things, I totally feel the poke. We wait more. She sticks me with another dose of scary needle. We wait some more. I still feel poking. Long story slightly less long, it took four shots before I was numb. By the fourth shot, I feel this crazy wave come over me. It takes me right back to my epidural for my c-section, which was more painful than the contractions I was trying to get relief from. I picked up my book and started reading, I started praying, I just did anything I could to get my mind off this horrid feeling washing over me. The fact that I was finally numb and scary tools started roaming around in my mouth was the least of my worries. Though, that is a terribly vulnerable position to be in, which I'd never thought about, but I tried to stop thinking about it. She did her do well and kindly and we were done. 

But by the time I walked out to the desk to pay, I couldn't hold back tears anymore. My head was swimming and pounding at the same time, all my muscles were clenching up, and I just couldn't stop thinking about the trauma of Sofia's delivery. The office manager saw me trying and failing to keep a normal face, and she said the epidural did the exact same thing to her. With her compassionate license, and the tissue she fetched for me, the flood gates opened up and I just openly wept. I wasn't actually sad, apparently my body is just very sensitive to pain and does not like to have that feeling shut down. 

I walked back home from the dentist's office, texting Manny as I went that I might be needing a little more help that morning than we'd anticipated, and the face-contorting tears just keep coming. 

Enter angel #1. It was a fairly quiet street pretty early in the morning, but I was so embarrassed when a car passed me, because I just couldn't hide my sobbing. I saw him through the window and somehow just knew, "that guy is going to try to take care of me." But he drove on by, so I thought I was wrong. But no, he pulled over, parked, and walked back my way. And my very sweet neighbor, Daron, whom I'd never met prior to that moment, walked with me down the block, offering me kindness and sympathy. He was so sweet, and the best I could do was choke out some thank you's and "I'm really fine, I'll be ok." He was a good Samaritan in real life. A+ for effort, Daron, thank you!  

I hobbled on home, and walked in the door. Enter angel #2. My Sofia came running up to me with a huge smile, "Mommy's back!" How can that not put a smile on my face? But as soon as she got a few feet away, she aptly observed, "Mommy very sad. Mommy not happy. Mommy needs hug." She ran right up to me and gave me the sweetest hug in all the world in all of time. I cuddled her and absorbed her love and warmth, but still just couldn't stop crying. 

Enter angel #3. So Manny rose to the occasion, and although he'd already missed some work for me to get to the appointment, he called in to let them know he'd be a bit later, and he sent me up to bed. I was able to rest a bit and finally pull it together enough to come down, albeit still a bit zombie eyed, but well enough to let him finally get out the door. 

Needless to say, I've been flossing like nobody's business ever since. And I am terrified of ever having another cavity, so I really hope this was an "anything once" I won't have to repeat. But I am so grateful for my angels coming to my aid on my day of need. 

Ramping up for Halloween

I love Halloween. Honestly, it is one of my favorite holidays. I think it makes the top five even. I am pretty nervous in admitting this, because it probably sounds completely anti-Christian, but it is true. I gave into that pressure for a few years by making my halloween costume a t-shirt from a Christian radio station, and have since pretty much given up dressing up myself, but other than my own costume issues, I've moved passed that pressure and the day is still something I get so excited for.

Halloween was always the day in Houston when the weather would have changed from hot and muggy to crisp and thrilling. It was also in the middle of "Kinkaid Week" - my school's equivalent of a homecoming. So that doubled the festivities and fun. And my parents went all out. Crowds of families would fill our tiny bungalow, my mother hand-made all my costumes and I always loved them (I know it is supposed to be lame for your mom to make your costume, but seriously - she made me an alien costume I loved so much I wore it three years in a row!), and the pinnacle of excitement for me was the pinata she would hang at the bottom of our stair case. I start getting hyper just thinking about it.

Exhibit A: mom-made costume for wee-little-me

I loved trick-or-treating. We had several neighbors who put a great deal of dramatic effort into creating spooky houses. It gave me the same emotional experience as working up the guts to ride a terrifying roller coaster, walking into those houses. Somehow, the lure of that candy, and conquering the overwhelming fear, made it worth all the effort.

In the past few years, especially while I had the baby bug, I looked forward to being on the other side of Halloween - being the neighbor handing out the candy. I've never had the creativity or effort to do the whole haunted house thing, but I love having the kids come to my door looking all cute and greedy and striking up little-people-sized conversations, feeding off their excitement, nervousness, and wonder.  I have also enjoyed this tradition of following this photography blog by Warren Harold as he counts down the days to Halloween with spooky images - he gets better every year!

And now I have my own little one the dress up. While she's not quite ready for a bucket full of candy, we're already having fun with little Halloween parties and activities. I have no bandwidth to be making her costumes myself [how did my mother do that?!?!], but I did get carried away and buy her not one, but two costumes for her first Halloween. Here's the first one she's already put to use:

Would you confess that you also enjoy this holiday? What are your favorite Halloween memories? What do you do to get ready? What costume are you planning for yourself or your little one this year? If you have a good enough idea, I am not past buying Sofia costume number three ;)