#142 - Don't Like Teeth Cleaning

I'm used to dreading dental appointments, because I'm the Plaque Queen.  No matter how well I brush and floss, my poor hygienist gets a workout. But for some reason I almost looked forward to my appointment a few days ago.

Remembering My Last Appointment

When I walked into the office on Wednesday, I felt relaxed. 7 months earlier, I had entered the same building feeling the weight of my brand new diagnosis. I remember how it felt to update my health form and put a check next to the word cancer, for the very first time. I recall Nancy's face when I told her my news.  I hoped she couldn't detect the lump in my throat when she cleaned my teeth.

But on Wednesday, I sat in that reclining chair and enjoyed telling Nancy that I was done with chemo and radiation. I lifted my wig and showed her my hair. I bragged that I'd been flossing really well. I asked if I could hum along, when the vibrating massage chair made my voice funny. And I had to show Nancy my comical cell phone pics of Don cutting my hair so many months ago.

This time it wasn't the plaque that slowed down the appointment, but our giddy chatter! 
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When I got home I looked at my dental goodie-bag and laughed to see the Crayola toothbrush! Was that a mistake? Maybe I was acting so goofy that Nancy forgot I wasn't a kid. Yay!  I'm ready to put that green crayon to use!