Gads, I am One Total Spoiled Brat. So last week was a bit of a traumatic week for me, mostly because I went to the dentist on Tuesday (which in itself is usually not traumatic, I actually have pretty good teeth) for a cleaning and with the complaint of extreme sensitivity on the left lower side of my mouth, which turned out to be a cracked molar. They whisked me away to the other side of the dentist�s office and proceeded to shoot me full of novocaine to fit me for a crown. I don�t know what it is about novocaine, but I get the wobblies everytime I get it. I mean, the waterworks in my eyes just go and I�m weeping uncontrollably. Part of it is because I get so scared -- I have very little dental work in my mouth � one crown. I also had my wisdom teeth removed. That�s it. No braces, no multiple fillings, etc. So I�m lying back in the chair, tears running down into my hair and snot draining down the back of my throat while it seems that four people have their hands shoved into my mouth running jackhammers directly into my jaw. But it went okay and was painless. The technician fitted me with a temp crown that�s too big on the tongue side, so I get to taste that damn composite stuff all day long (and it tastes terrible, let me tell you) and then I also get to deal with the fact that while I have dental insurance, I get to pay an exorbitant amount out of pocket, equivalent to what I used to pay for a cross-country plane ticket. I say used to because we all know what plane fares are nowadays since the oil men all decided to line their pockets that much thicker. But that�s another rant for another day. Sigh I suppose then that the wobbly I completely threw the next day was a combination of: 1) paying that money that we could have used to, I don�t know, have a nice mini-vacation, for a recalcitrant tooth; 2) leftover novocaine wobbly; and 3) still thinking I could get away with only taking half a dose of my anti-depressant. Hah! I was getting my fingernails removed (acrylic nails, thank you, and yes, you can throw things at me now for paying good money to have long fingernails, how terribly vain of me, just call me a yuppie now) so I could get a new set (oh, how Scottsdale of me, haha!) but the girl shoved my hands into pure acetone and left me there. For over ninety minutes! And she kept coming back, going �Keep soak, keep soak� but I�m thinking, I could have taken care of this myself in less than half the time and I wouldn�t be absorbing this much chemical. So I threw a wobbly. Completely embarrassing myself, of course, and then going home and throwing myself on the bed like a diva with gooey half-melted fingernails. I get to go back tomorrow morning to have my new nails put on. At least I threw a (monetary) tip at the girl after I yelled at her. So now I�m back on a full dose of the Lexapro and chiding myself for being so childish. Thank heavens I lost a pound at the Weight Watchers weigh-in that day � there�s no telling what I would have done otherwise. One thing I did discover though � while Hubster will generally leave me alone and not feed into my wobbly, he will make dinner for me. He made a lovely shrimp etouffe that was yummy. I�m not saying that I will purposely throw a wobbly just to get some good shrimp etouffe, though. Maybe.
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