Rock Star (Psalms 12:3)

I have problems. A few months ago, when I went to the dentist after not going for (ahem) about three years, (I know, bad, huh?) he told me that I was an immaculate tooth brusher, and he couldn't believe the chart that told him it had been 35 months since I had last come in for a cleaning. I am embarrassed to admit that I was super proud of myself. "I am a *rock star* tooth brusher," I thought.

Then he told me that I needed to get my wisdom teeth out because they were going to cause me some serious problems. He said, "You're going to hate me when you do it because it will be BAD, but you need it done. So, do it now." Well, that sort of put a damper on the visit. Maybe I wasn't as good at teeth care as I thought. But, I still thought I was pretty cool, even if my teeth I couldn't see were being naughty.

Fast forward to now. Let me tell you what the oral surgeon said today when I went to see him for my re-check on my surgery. He said that he felt so bad sending me home last week because he knew it would be a terrible recovery. He said two of the teeth he had to break into teeny-tiny pieces to get them out and away from the nerves, and that it was just awful. He said for a teenager it would have been bad but he was real worried about me. And then he said, "You are one tough cookie. I thought you would be so much worse than you are now. And, you have done an excellent job at keeping everything clean. Well done, I am impressed!"

It's pathetically sad how proud I was at his statement. Now, I didn't tell him that I wanted to roll over and die a couple of days ago. That wouldn't have been impressive. I just smiled meekly and said, "Well, there were a couple of rough days."

He said, "I'm sure there were. But I see that we've given you a rainbow of colors to decorate your face. Maybe that helped cheer you up a bit?" with a nice little wink.

"Oh, yes," I said, "It's been very nice. Too bad you didn't see it yesterday, I think there was even some green in there. It's faded quite a bit in the last twenty-four hours, you missed the best of it."

To which he replied, "I'm just glad it isn't worse. You really have done so well. What a tough girl you are."

And even though I left the office with considerably less money, and a handful of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory pills, I was feeling pretty proud of myself. Downright high-and-mighty at my tooth care and recovery talent, actually. We have a lip sync/talent show at our church tomorrow and I'm considering putting my teeth and healing wounds on display. I totally rock.

I think maybe it's my head that might need some of those anti-inflammatory drugs.

Or, I need to develop more talents. Or get a new life. Or more friends. Or something. I'm pathetic.