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Dental Costs…

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I budget $25 – $50 each month for dental care. Despite perfect hygiene, including twice brushings and daily flossing, I seem to have especially bad luck in the dental chair.

I have marshmallow teeth. White, straight, and soft to the core.

As my dentist finished the cleaning and moved the chair up, the creepy plastic squeaked in protest. I waited for the bad news and flinched when she pulled out my chart to make notes.

“OK Rebekah. Looks great. See you in six months.”

“What?!? You must have it wrong. I’m Rebekah. THE Rebekah. The Rebekah with her own personal parking spot earned from gratuitous dental work. I haven’t been for a cleaning in two years and I’m good?!?”

She laughed, and walked out.

Before she could change her mind, I ran for the door. I exited and gasped my first breath of air that didn’t smell (and taste) like tooth dust.

No dental work required? This one goes in the record books.

I would recycle the budgeted dental money into debt reduction – but my husband has a cleaning in three weeks and I won’t play with fire on this one.


It’s Life Insurance Test Day!

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After deciding to take out life insurance, I spent some time searching for a good inexpensive policy. I finally found one and set up the required physical exam.

I was terrified to get the exam for several reasons:

1. Thanks to my foot injury, I haven’t been running in weeks and I swear my muscle tone is decomposing by the hour.
2. In an effort to avoid high readings in cholesterol, I was to avoid Mexican food, sushi, and beer. Perhaps this would have been easier had I not lived near the ocean just north of the Mexican border. No Mexican food or sushi? That’s like asking a San Diegan not to eat.
3. They advised me to get a good night’s rest the night before the exam. Hmm. This may have been easier had there not been a 5.7 earthquake at 9:30pm last night followed by aftershocks until 2:00am.
4. I have a completely irrational fear of needles.

Upon arrival, I started shaking and sweating. The examiner asked me twice to please stop shaking, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to get the needle inserted in one shot.

I thought, ‘Yeah, because the shaking is voluntary.’

Halfway through the draw, he looked at me and asked, “Are you OK? You look extremely pale…well… more pale than you already were.”

Gee, you’re full of compliments today aren’t ya?

He finished the draw and by then, the room was spinning…and I passed out.

Yup folks, that’s me. 30 years old and I still act like a 5 year old around needles.

I’m glad it’s over.