OK, so I’ve had a toothache for two weeks now.
My husband wants me to call the dentist again this morning. I already went back to the dentist once (we fixed your problem!) and called them again a couple days later (we’re on vacation!). So, now, not only do I have to call an answering machine, but they’re going to refer me to a new (I don’t want to go) dentist, an oral (oh no) surgeon.
So, I’m sitting here on my couch eating cookies (mushy ones) for breakfast, chewing on my left side wondering how long I can go on with this denial. My husband is a gotta-problem?, solve-it kind of guy. There’s no getting around him. He’s at the gym, coming home any minute. I know the first words out of his mouth are going to be, “Did you call the dentist?”
I’m thinking maybe the pain will go away…
I’m thinking maybe I could eat not-too-cold, not-too-hot oatmeal and take Advil three times a day for the rest of my life…
In my mind, there’s a whole wide world of denial and anxiety between a problem rearing its head and my solving the problem. I know all of you don’t have toothaches like me, but you’re probably in the anxiety/denial wasteland about SOMETHING in your life. For me, there’s always something…
My father, an efficient problem-solver like my husband, used to tell me, “Turn in the direction of the skid.” He meant, face the problem. “I know, I know,” I’d tell him, “But I have to work myself up to it.” “I have to work myself up” is my way of saying, “Leave me alone, I’m going to suffer needlessly and waste my life away for a while, but thank you for your concern.”
There’s really no way around these things though. I know, I’ve tried everything. You can spend weeks, months, a lifetime avoiding the problem.
I know, I know.
There’s only one way out. JUST DO IT.
I would like those NIKE people to go to the dentist for me.