Risking My Life to Take Care of My Health
How I barely survived 4 trips to the dentist and 3 trips to the optometrist in the time of COVID
Even in normal times, I hate going to the doctor. When mine asks why I’m so nervous, I remind him that if I am going to hear terrible medical news, I will most likely be sitting in a doctor’s office. The odds are that sooner or later, one of my routine check-ups is going to end badly.
Giving up the crown
I got a notice from my dentist a few weeks ago that he was retiring. I was pretty sure COVID made it happen sooner than he would have liked. For the 10 years I had gone to him, I felt comfortable like he was a familiar old shoe. Whenever he asked, “How are you?” I’d reply, “How do you think I am? I’m at the dentist.”
I decided to wait to find a new one when hopefully everything settled back to normal. That plan worked until my husband Saul made his famous homemade caramels.
“Be careful chewing this batch,” he warned. “They’re pretty hard.”
“I’m not 90,” I replied as I chomped into one.
Wow, I thought to myself. These really are hard. Some parts of this caramel feel like pieces of teeth.
