I am not what you'd call a fan of the dentist (fine, you got me. No one is). When I was a child, I went every six months like a good little kid whose responsible mother made all her healthcare decisions and appointments. Once I flew off into the world post-college, making my own money and healthcare and appointments, I sort of lost track of time. For a few years. Um. Ooops.
That being said, the only cavities that are filled in my mouth date back to the early 80's; two on the bottom right (apparently I've ALWAYS chewed most on that side). After a few years hiatus, the last time I went to the dentist, I expected to be told that I'd require daily visits and a mouthful of fillings in order to get back on track. Surprisingly, I heard neither. So either I do a good job with the brushing and flossing on my own, or that dentist was a quack.
Getting busy with parenting has in many ways, given me indirect permission to stop taking care of myself. Hence the whole fatty fatfat thing I've got going on now (although I have to be fair and say that it's more chubby chubchub at this point, but it still feels fat). But the self-neglect also extends itself to my healthcare. And right now my tooth is telling me that it's no longer okay to neglect myself unless I want to end up smacking my toothless gums together sometime way sooner than would be remotely socially acceptable.
So today I think will be a day of few and soft food choices. Not the ideal way to lose weight, but hopefully shaving a bit off of the scale before tomorrow's weigh in will be a silver lining in this throbbing pain taking over my head.
Now I'm off to locate a dentist who will take pity on me and hop me up on nitrice-oxide and make the pain go away.