Emotional Much?

Now that it has been nearly six months, I think I'm ready to begin talking about an extremely emotional time I had back in December. First, let me tell you a little backround information. I truly enjoy going to the dentist. I always have. I long for the feeling of amazingly clean teeth every six months. For as long as I can remember, I have gone to the dentist every six months (including college). And, despite two cavities, I've never had any issues arise. So when I lived in Wenatchee, I was quick to find a dentist. Actually, Brett had already found one he liked; therefore, I just jumped on the band wagon. Easy enough. I guess I didn't know how good I had had it all these years.

Fast forward to December 2008. Again, Brett met a dentist and said, "He reminds me of Mark." Mark was, in fact, our old dentist. And yes, we're on a first name basis because him and his family became great friends of ours. "Well," I thought, "if he's like Mark, I have to go!" Wrong. Everything was wrong. The receptionist was too young, there weren't pictures of their families in the rooms, I had a cavity and wasn't numbed completely, I didn't like the tool they used to clean my teeth, etc. Clearly, the list goes on. Not to mention, I guess I have weird standards when it comes to dentists.

I was okay after I left that dreary day. However, when Brett and I talked about it a couple of nights later, it was waterworks. I cried, and cried, and cried. I knew it was ridiculous (keep in mind I was pregnant at the time), but I could not help it. I was so sad. My experience was atrocious. Well, my friends, my next appointment (with a new dentist) is coming up in three weeks. I am preparing myself emotionally for this appointment. Please, keep me in your prayers.