It’s embarrassing to admit this, but I went many many years without going to the dentist. From the time I was about 14 until I was 29. The main reason being that I didn’t have dental insurance. Also, I didn’t have any issues with my teeth so it was kind of easy to forget to go. I think I was paying for dental insurance at my job for two whole years before I actually went. I was scared, but I knew I couldn’t put it off any more. My gums were bleeding way too much when I brushed. And I was worried I would have a cavity.

I got a referral for a great dentist who was close to my work and made an appointment. That first appointment was bad. Because it had been so long, the dental hygienist used some weird awful tool in my mouth to get rid of the plaque. It wasn’t the scraper, but a more powerful and super sonic piece of equipment. It made this horrible high pitched sound inside my mouth and I thought I would going to lose my shit. White knuckled and ass raised in the air, I managed to get through it. My hygienist, Julie, was very patient with me even though I could tell she just wanted to relax already and let her do her job. She distracted me by asking me questions about books and if I liked to read, and what kind. Which in hindsight always makes me laugh because it is very hard to have a conversation while at the dentist. You know, with people’s hands and tools in your mouth.

Turns out I did have a cavity and I would have to come back soon. And so I did. And I continued to go every six months like a good girl. Each visit got a little less painful and my nerves calmed down a bit more. She never tried to use that tool on me again though. She went back to using her scraper and keeping me entertained by asking me about blogging and BlogHer and again, talking about books. We sure did love to talk about books. I went in last year this time and she looked different. She had a cap on her head and it was obvious it was to hide her lack of hair. I didn’t want to pry though. However, she did end up telling me that at the beginning of the year she had been diagnosed with cancer. She had gone through chemo and was now in remission. It was so successful she never even missed a day of work from being sick. I was happy and relieved and hugged her before I left.

When I went back to my dentist earlier this year for my cleaning, I was excited to see Julie and tell her about the Kindle I had bought. I was curious to see if she was one of those hard core book only lovers, or if she would also embrace technology and cave to the e-readers. Except that she wasn’t there. A much younger girl I had never seen came and got me instead and began working on me. I asked about Julie right away, wondering if maybe she was on vacation or something. That’s when the girl informed me that Julie had passed away. Her cancer had come back quickly and stronger and she had died about a month prior. I was shocked and stunned and saddened. I’m a highly emotional person who already has major dental anxiety. Then the new girl, who replaced my Julie, pulled out that wicked piece of equipment that had been used on me the first time and I thought I was going to be sick. She mentioned she preferred this tool because it was faster. I, however, still hated it and was damn near crawling out of my seat the entire time. All I could think about was Julie and how if she were there she would calm me down and not torture me. And then I began to cry.

It was a silent cry, but the tears just wouldn’t stop. The new girl, whose name I can’t remember, stopped and asked me if I was ok. I couldn’t answer her for fear of sobbing hysterically. She asked if I was crying because of Julie and I nodded yes. She gave me a few minutes to cry some more and handed me some tissues before she began again. But the tears didn’t stop. I continued to cry for the remainder of the cleaning, up until the point when the dentist came in and did his final inspection. I told him how sorry I was to hear about Julie and tried to keep from crying any more.

I left the office that day in pain, nerves shot, and very sad for my twice a year book friend that I never got to say goodbye to.

I’m supposed to go back to the dentist on the 22nd for another cleaning. I don’t want to go. I can’t sit through another torture session that I know will only make me crazy. And then I will start to miss Julie and I will cry again. And then I will be “that patient” who cries every time. I just want my Julie back. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.