“Oh boy. That’s not good.”
I uncomfortably watched the blood drain out of his face.
This is not what you want to hear and see from your dentist. Ever.
My dentist suspected a fractured tooth that had a root canal when I was a teenager. He told me I needed to go to a specialist to be sure.
That was about three years ago.
My husband was out of work at the time, and we had no dental insurance. Therefore, I couldn’t do anything about it. At least that was the excuse I offered whenever that sick feeling in my gut returned.
The real reason I wouldn’t go in was very different from the one I held onto . . . I was simply scared out of my wits.
So two years passed. No dental insurance. No dentist telling me I had issues. If you ignore your brokenness, it’ll go away, right?
We wish.
But then a miracle happened in our family. My husband got a job with really good insurance. I quickly got the whole family appointments to the eye doctor. I got my boy’s wisdom teeth out. We got braces on my daughter. We sent my husband in for a sleep study and took care of his sleep apnea. And I dutifully set up appointments for each of my children to visit the dentist.
I was terribly sad when my schedule didn’t mesh with the family dental appointment . . . Not.
I made up some excuse as to why I couldn’t come in with them, and I ignored their email reminders that came a month or so later.
I knew I had a problem. I knew it needed to be addressed. A part of me was damaged, and my choice was to pretend it away.
Another year passed. For real.
And then . . . I began to get a jolt every time I flossed near the crown of that tooth. That was painful. I certainly didn’t want to stop flossing and cause more problems. I tried to baby it. It had to be a cavity in the tooth next to the crown. Or so I thought.
Yet I still put it off.
A couple of times I pretended I would go. Appointments were set . . . and postponed. Any potential conflict I could find with the appointment was quickly embraced, and I re-scheduled once again.
And then . . . there were no more excuses. It was time to stop being such a hypocrite. I knew exactly how to coach someone else through an experience like this, but I was actively hiding from those uncomfortable solutions.
I saw in my mind coming home from my appointment and telling my husband that it was really easy. That there was no pain involved. That it was silly that I had waited so long. And I felt grateful for that outcome.
And . . . I went.
Guess what? It was true. It was probably the most gentle cleaning I’ve ever had at the dentist. It was enjoyable to visit with the dental hygienist, and everything went well.
That’s the good news.
The not-so-good news?
The root on my tooth had broken off (which was somehow pinching a nerve, causing the pain while I flossed), and there is no way to save the tooth. It’s abscessed, and it needs to be extracted. I can go for a bridge or an implant - and while that isn’t the answer anyone hopes for at the dentist, it is going to solve the problem. No longer is there an unknown to taunt me and cause further anxiety. I can get rid of this abscess that has wreaked havoc on my emotional and oral health for three years.
Here’s the really ridiculous part . . . I could have had this resolved three years ago.
Have you ever noticed that our anticipation of removing the abscesses in our life causes far more anxiety than the actual removal?
Would you be open to listening to the one that just did it completely wrong? Please. Consider learning from my mistakes.
I would wholeheartedly recommend that we extract every abscess in our Iives. Today.
A bad habit.
An unhealthy work environment.
Destructive entertainment choices.
A toxic relationship.
Harmful music.
Decaying morals.
Rotten self-talk.
Injurious social media.
We don’t need to suffer any longer by putting it off. You know it’s time to make the change. You’ve stuffed it, ignored it, made excuses. And you’ve dreaded facing it. We all have.
It’s hard. I know. And there’s some pain involved.
But.
Let it go. Seriously. You don’t have to hang on to those nasty, toxic parts of your life.
And I promise you . . . you’ll find relief and peace on the other side.
It is so worth it.
If you are ready to let go of the gunk, I’m here to help you create something better.