T is for...Terrified

Day 20. Your biggest fear

There are two things that I am very afraid of.

One...Dentist.

I didn't have the best experience with dental work when I was younger. It had such a lasting effect on me that when I was old enough to make my own decisions I stopped going to the dentist. In my mind, it was never just a teeth cleaning..there was always something wrong that required more extensive work.

So, I didn't see a dentist for nearly 10 years (You read that right). Jeremy's constant dental issues forced us into finding a new dentist. It took a few tries to find the right fit (sad to say, many dentists are super duper into the cosmetic aspect of dental work) but we finally found a great dentist who has a wonderful staff that were sensitive to my dental aversion. My hygienist has been wonderful, she has really helped me overcome a lot of my fear of going in for my bi-yearly cleanings.

And when I found out I had to have my wisdom teeth out last year, she helped talk me out of the crazy tree when I was anxious. I was so afraid at the extraction appointment that I cried...like a baby..and couldn't even look at the dental surgeon (who wasn't my normal dentist) while he was trying to make small talk with me to make me more comfortable. He was nice too and knocked me out quick.

I still get a tad nervous getting in the dentist chair (I have an appointment tomorrow) but knowing I'm going to get to see my hygienist and have her chattering away actually gives me something to look forward to.

Two...Cockroaches.

EEWWW! I know, right. There is just something about them that makes me freak out. I thought I had a normal fear, you know, like everyone else. But one weekend while my sister was in town there was a huge cockroach crawling on my bedroom wall and it was between me and my bedroom door. I had to work up the nerve to army crawl (just about) out of the room to go wake up my sister so SHE could kill it.

Once she stopped laughing at me, I think she realized that I was really, super afraid. I couldn't even go back in the room. So she bravely went in (with my husbands flip flop) and killed it. But she made me clean it up. And I had a hard time even doing that..I'm talking sweeping it into a NEW EMPTY trash bag while I was on the bed and a broom handles length away from it.

I'm getting the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.

Gross.