I'm supposed to go to dance camp this weekend. Robert is staying home to commune with, and likely nap with, the animals. I thought for a long time about going by myself and decided to do it. I want to be in the woods, dance with my friends, eat camp food (well, not really, but it's not *that* bad), hang out by the camp fire, sleep in bunks. The linens are packed, the shopping list is made, and I'm making progress with the rest of packing.
Meanwhile, I've had an "irritation" in my mouth since before Christmas. I mention it to my dental caregivers every opportunity I get. The last time I said something, I was told that my "plate was full" (well, yes, two crowns, an extraction, and an implant in a few months does make for a full plate) and we'd deal with it later.
Hmmm. Later might be now. We have had further developments on the irritation front over the last few days. Ordinarily, I'd just sit with it for a few more days -- it's livable, after all. But the idea of being over an hour from home and having this flare up concerns me, so I just called my dentist. The root canal specialist happens to be in today, so I'm not even bothering to see my regular guy -- skip go, do not collect $200. D'oh!!
I'm still hoping that I can go away, maybe even dance. We'll see.
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