So for over a year now, I’ve avoided going to the dentist like the plague. Knowing my wisdom teeth were coming through, I knew the inevitable was eventually going to rear its ugly head – having them taken out.
It was all plain sailing until I got an infection – I was in genuine agony and my face had swollen up like a balloon. Knowing I couldn’t ignore this, I went and then avoided going back for another 5 months.
Oh hello, another infection. This time, the antibiotics don’t clear them. So today was the day, I had one of my wisdom teeth taken out.
Now I really don’t like the dentist, it has always made me anxious even before anxiety started ruling my life. So I did my best to try and ignore any problems to avoid having to go. I hate the waiting room, the unknown, thinking you’re going in for just a check up and leaving in agony (no I do not want them polished, dammit!) Not to mention the needles used to numb you gum beforehand. I DO NOT DO NEEDLES.
But today, I coped. I actually coped pretty well. My mumma came with me of course but I actually managed okay and for once, it felt comfortable. I haven’t sat torturing myself thinking the situation over and over because it actually went as well as it could.
And for that, I feel kind of proud.
It’s the little things – small victories.