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Slight chance of showers, thunderstorms expected on July 4th

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Traffic report for July 2

<p>By Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p><br><div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>By Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><style>
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<p>Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It&#8217;s been five years since my last dental visit and I was scared. Very, very scared. Because it actually may have been longer. This was like a DEFCON 5 level anxiety.</p><p>The dental hygienist came into the waiting room and beckoned me. I ignored her. She stared. I eventually slunk behind her into the room I&#8217;d been dreading this almost and much as the other clinical room I try to avoid but instead of stir-ups and cold instruments, there was a galaxy of very pointy, sharp, and cold instruments.</p><p>&#8220;Listen,&#8221; I told her, &#8220;It&#8217;s been awhile. I&#8217;m telling you this because I&#8217;m assuming in your line of work you would know I was lying if I said I kept up on this crap. But it&#8217;s not my fault. Breast cancer, you know&#8230;&#8221;</p><p>And there it was. My pathetic excuse for everything I don&#8217;t do correctly &#8212; from not abiding the speed limit to begging forgiveness for the depth of my tartar build-up.</p><p>I&#8217;ve been in remission for five years but I shamelessly throw out that morsel habitually in order to diffuse almost every uncomfortable situation.</p><p>&#8220;Sorry honey&#8230;no Girl Scout Cookies for me this year. I had breast cancer!&#8221;</p><p>Or: &#8220;Time for another colonoscopy?! But I just had breast cancer!&#8221;</p><p>And I&#8217;m certain it&#8217;s going to come right back around to bite me in my un-scoped rear end, sooner rather than later. I should&#8217;ve felt guilty. But I didn&#8217;t. I was too busy having the vapors.</p><p>Whatever. I have no pride, no boobs, no boundaries.</p><p>At any rate, I warned the poor hygienist that I cry a lot and a vigorous tooth scraping would be no exception. I advised her to ignore my tears unless they were accompanied by heaving hiccups, then I would choke on my own spit and she&#8217;d have to dial 911. Now I scared her. She was thinking: &#8220;If I just stayed in the bathroom three more minutes the other hygienist would&#8217;ve gotten this wack job.&#8221;</p><p>The excavation began and I was happy to see there was a TV. This was a treat; I could watch &#8220;Three and a Half Men&#8221; while having my 31 and a half teeth examined. Apparently I was missing a large chunk of a tooth and a filling. How did that happen, they wondered?</p><p>Don&#8217;t ask me. I had breast cancer! (Oh, I know exactly how it happened; take your pick: Good &amp; Plenty, Cracker Jacks, Swedish Fish, Jolly Ranchers.) Dear God, I&#8217;m surprised that&#8217;s all that was lost. My rotting uvula shouldn&#8217;t be far behind.</p><p>My dentist tolerates my nonsense admirably well and tries to alleviate my anxiety as best he can, but I&#8217;m challenging. I squealed: &#8220;Welll&#8230;donhermee!!&#8221; &#8220;What?&#8221; &#8220;I said donherrrrmmeee!&#8221; &#8220;What?&#8221; &#8221; Don&#8217;t hurt me!&#8221; He assured me he wasn&#8217;t in the business of hurting his patients. But how did I know he doesn&#8217;t have a padded room in the basement where he keeps all the big-mouthed, troublesome patients who harass him about hurting them, bite his finger and threaten to write a newspaper column about him?</p><p>Examination complete. They said, &#8220;See you in 6 months&#8221; and I laughed and laughed! But, I&#8217;m going to be better. Because, the only crown I want is the one I imagine that I perch jauntily on my head every morning when I awaken. So I&#8217;ll return. But not anytime soon. Because I had breast cancer&#8230;</p><br>Maria Jiunta Heck of West Pittston is a mother of three, a librarian and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life.

Life Deconstructed: Drilling down on my anxiety