"it's not a too-muh . . . "

no . . . it's a *cavity.*

i went to the dentist today for my teeth cleaning / x-ray appointment cuz i'm leaving for two months and well, that appointment was way overdue! so i get there and notice that they have this new hi-tech patient self-check in system that does everything for you online so you don't have to fill out tons and tons of paperwork. so i do that and i wait for emily, the newest dental hygenist at the office, to call my name.

i go back there and we make idle chit-chat about whatever there is to talk about: me leaving for el paso, her obsession with this season's "the bachelor" -- which, i might add, i got the blow-by-blow replay of -- and why breaking up on national television must suck, ski resorts in utah versus new mexico, etc. she was nice enough. and i can say i really liked her. until she said those horrible, awful, blasphemous words:

*looks like you have a cavity*

the words didn't quite register when she said that, cuz, well frankly, i've never had a cavity before. and if there is anything i'm more than slightly OCD about, it's my teeth. seriously. i must brush them 5-10 times a day, and only that little cuz my dentist once told me brushing them 30 times a day was actually bad for me. and so i sat there. and then the letters all came together in my head and formed that horrid word: cavity.

"look again," i tell her. "you must be mistaken."

"well it's no big deal," she says. "people typically get one to two cavities in their lifetime." her reassuringly sweet voice did not reassure me.

"you don't understand," i stammer, holding back the tears that have now formed in my eyes [and no, i'm not exaggerating]. "i don't get cavities."

she continues cleaning what she calls my "beautiful teeth" and says that she'll pass the word along to the dentist and he can check it out before she signs off on me having one. when she's done with the cleaning and x-rays, she moves me to another examination room and i wait. the dentist comes in and asks me if i have any questions or concerns.

"uh, yeah . . . that cavity emily says i might have."

totally unaware, he says, "oh, well let's have a look. you've never had a cavity before."

and so he sits in his adjustable chair and shines that annoying light into my mouth and begins scraping away with his little hooky-deal thing.

"yep . . . looks to be something there."

and immediately my eyes well up with tears and one falls down my cheek. i was not prepared for a cavity. you could've told me i had breast cancer and i would've handled it better than a cavity.

"let's take a look at the x-rays and i can tell you better about it."

so he positions my chair upright and moves the computer screen so that i can see what he sees. and he tells me where each molar and cuspid is on the screen, points out what's enamel, what's soft tissue, what's nerve endings. and then he points to the blasted cavity.

"see that dark spot there?"

and i nod in horror at the spot on my molar that is slightly darker than the rest of the tooth.

"that there is your cavity," he says, pointing his little hooky-deal at the screen. "It's just a tiny one. and don't worry. as we get older" -- ERRRRT! hold on, sir . . . he actually used the words "older" and by the way, i am not even 30 yet, thank you very much! -- "our teeth mature like we do and age. this cavity is in one of those deep pits and grooves that no one can do anything about. no toothbrush bristle can get that deep in there and sometimes, that results in tooth decay."

he sees my tears and tells me it's no big deal. he can do some filling thing when i get back in two whole months from el paso and everything will be normal again.

but i realize just then, that things are not normal. i have a cavity. which i have never had in my life.

and you know? i don't care what that dentist says. when i brushed my teeth 30 times a day, i never had one.

*i'm going back to that routine.*