I had to go to the dentist today.
I am going to be 30 in 9 days, not that I am counting, but I am scared of the dentist and I am technically a grown up.
I remember being a little kid and thankfully never having anything major wrong with my mouth that would prompt a fear of going to the dentist. In fact if anything it was fun because afterwards my Mum would take me to the shop to pick whatever treat I wanted- licorice wheels were my favourite. Of course I wasn't allowed them straight away.
Today I got my wisdom tooth pulled.
Right now I could cry. I really want a licorice wheel.
Husband came with me and sat nervously in the waiting room while I got a bit of me extracted. I think he was really worried for me. But since we've known I have this appointment he's been nothing but cool and nonchalant about the whole thing. He has been very re-assuring and calming.
In the car on the way back telling him about what happened in the room he had one hand over his mouth and the other on the steering wheel.
He then told me how he would take a spade to the head rather than get a tooth pulled under local anaesthetic.
He was so calm for me, knowing that if he suggested that the thought of getting a wisdom tooth pulled turned his stomach then I would be extremely freaked out about getting it pulled myself.
This is why he is my husband.
I could cry again. Going to put that down to the loss of a tooth.
Under strict instructions I am propped up in bed trying not to dribble, writing this and watching episodes of The West Wing (thank you Little B) to keep my mind off what is likely to be an uncomfortable couple of days. My mouth is still numb.
Wish me luck.
[For the record, the tooth was enormous- half the size of my own head (I know I can't believe it either) but it came out really easily and I didn't feel a thing. A decent amount of pressure on my jaw but zero pain]