Something beginning with D...

Well my D is something that can be a little bit of a touchy subject for some people... DENTIST.

Yesterday I went to the dentist. I have to have a lot of work done to the back of my teeth. Of my 28 teeth, yes, 28 teeth (I don't have any wisdom or ever had or ever will) 11 of them need something done to them! 11! But in my defence, 8 of them are fixing terrible English dentistry. Oh well.

I was supposed to have an inlay and a filling yesterday, which is part 1 of the 4 part saga that is my mouth. That sounds a bit weird. "The saga that is my mouth" ... that could almost sound like a dodgy porno line maybe.

So I was super stressed about money, but I have some buffer in the sense that I don't have to pay for everything all up front, I got approved for Care Credit or something like that, so I can pay over time and spread it out. The dentist and his team are really nice and they are approved with our dental insurance, so they cover a bunch of it, at varying percentages they cover (depending on the type of work). I was worried that they would try and rip me off, but my friend Kristina recommended me and she is a dental hygienist and wouldn't send me somewhere terrible and during my first session yesterday, we all thought I needed an inlay, and after he had taken out my Victorian radioactive filling he said "Good news Alex! You don't need an inlay after all, we can do this as a filling... just a big filling" so that was reassuring. Because I wouldn't have known any different. I was in a chair with a weird dental guard in and high on pain killers. And considering the stuff they did in this session (they also fixed a cheeky filling in the area) and how nice they were and how the numbing me didn't even bother me I feel a bit more at ease.

Don't get me wrong, I have no issue with dentistry or such. If you need work, you need work. And if it is work you needed through your own fault, so be it. I just don't like how much it costs! Stress! The Care Credit took some of the edge off. I think I can make the payments okay as well every month, I just need to not eat so much shit at work on my lunches. Hey, this could all work out for me. I'll get thinner and my teeth will get better cos I can't afford to eat sweets all day!

But everyone, let me be a lesson for you all. If you move to an island will expensive dentists who work 3 days a week and everyone you live around has shitty teeth, and get behind in appointments but then catch up again before you get pregnant sort of, but then you end up falling in love and moving to America, and again then have to find a new dentist but put it off for ages, and then when you do, don't be put off by seeing your friend the dental hygienist who accidently uncovers a stinky cavity which needs a crown, which you then have to fix instead of all those other little cavities you found out about during your hygienist appointment, but then move AGAIN and wait 6 months before you find another dentist... DON'T. DON'T EVER PUT IT OFF.

CAVITIES CAN'T FIX THEMSELVES!

I guess I am lucky that my teeth aren't actually that bad at all really. Everyone compliments me on my teeth. I should really do my hardest to KEEP them and stop chewing on plastic cutlery and pen lids. I never needed a brace or anything like that, or had any wisdom teeth. I should treat them nicely and be grateful I don't need reconstructive surgery or something. My teeth will be fixed in 4 appointments. I should be grateful for that.

PS, always FLOSS. I know its boring and sucks, but you can buy those fun ones that are on little sticks and look like bows!

Also, I never even HEARD of a hygienist until I moved to the US. Well that is kind of a lie. They were starting to catch on in Jersey within the last few months of me leaving there. I had one appointment but she didn't do half the stuff or notice the stuff my US counterparts did.

I meant to post this yesterday, but Addie was SICK twice when we put her down into bed. I think she was worked up rather than sick sick, least I hope so. Patrick kept her home today, and she seems better. We stripped her down and changed her sheets after the first vomit, only for her to do it again as Patrick was holding her. He and her went into the shower and I put everything in the washing machine for my second load of pukey laundry for the night. Blankets, pjs, cuddly toys and comforters. It was all over Patrick's clothes and the rug too. Remind me to Febreeze in there again. Once she was out of the shower she stayed up a while watching cartoons in our bed so we could get her blankets dry. She wouldn't have slept without her pink blanket I am pretty sure of it. She kept asking for it you see.

Recently, she has been saying how scary everything is. Something spooked her or whatever she she wakes up in the morning or in the night. She used to be so fearless. I wonder how much of it is real, or if she is just milking it as she knows she'll get a reaction or attention. I feel bad for her, but also, we are already at the end of our tethers explaining that there is no bear/alligator/catapillar (I know WTF?!) there and then try to reason with a two year old about all the things that are there to look after her (one of a million other toys in her crib for example) or why she shouldn't be afraid. Exhausting. I hope she wasn't genuinely so scared she made herself sick. Thinking about these things makes me feel bad and doubt my parenting skills. Firstly I should be able to combat these things, and part of me feels like I failed her if she turns out to be a wimpy whiney kid, which she really isn't/hasn't been. Please let it be a phase!

Work is going well. I like my job and the people I work with. They are a rad bunch. I got a free lunch today too. It was delicious. Free lunches are delicious by default for the most part, but this was pretty good. When I got home, Patrick had made a lovely dinner, but the new griddle pan is soaking in the sink, with a ton of burnt stuff attached to it. Non stick my arse.