Yesterday I got my very first cavity filled. It was barely even a cavity. I mean, it was so small that when the hygienist found it several months ago, she wasn't even sure it was a cavity. If they hadn't just purchased some new-fangled Laser Cavity Detection Device, it would not have been categorized as a cavity. But she stuck the laser thingy in my mouth and it gave a reading that indicated the depression in my tooth was (barely) a cavity.

I was devastated. When she told me the bad news, I looked at her desperately and said, "No! No, that can't be!"

"I'm sorry."

"But I've never had a cavity before!"

"Oh, it's okay. You'll be fine. Having it filled doesn't even hurt."

"No, it's not that. I'm not worried about that. It's just...well, it's just that I'm not perfect anymore."

I don't think she quite knew how to respond to that. I was joking, of course. Sort of. Okay, not really. I mean, I know I'm not perfect, obviously. But I've always taken a great deal of pride in certain things about me that are perfect. Like my hearing. Like never having had a cavity. Like.....okay, those are the only ones I can think of.

And so I've really been bumming about this cavity. I feel so ashamed! It is a flaw in my veneer. Indisputable proof that I'm not perfect. (But, you know, just barely.)

What makes this specific case even worse is that I have perhaps been a bit of a braggart when it comes to my dental health. When I married Rob, I switched to his dentist because it was a more convenient location. At this dentist office, they name a Patient of the Week. I don't know how the patient is chosen, but if you are Patient of the Week you get a little card in the mail that everyone on the staff has signed. And they put your name up on the bulletin board in the waiting room. It is totally not a big deal, unless you're like me and enjoy every chance you get to flaunt the fact that you're better than everyone else.

The first time I got Patient of the Week, I was surprised. At my recent visit, I had gotten a mini-lecture about flossing. And so I thought it was odd that they'd chosen me to be Patient of the Week. But I figured they were trying to give me a guilt trip or something. You know, appeal to my ego. Rob said it was probably just their way of welcoming me to the office.

Then I got it again. That time I saw it coming, because at my appointment the hygienist had really praised my "home care." I still wasn't flossing, but I lied and said I was. Hey, if she can't tell, then it must not be that important. When the card came in the mail a few days later, I waved it in front of Rob's face. "Look what I got! Patient of the Week, baby! AGAIN!" He was outraged. He has been going to this dentist for basically his entire life and he has never been named Patient of the Week. Not ever. And I had gotten it twice in as many years. "But you don't even floss!" he protested. Nope. SUCKER.

When I got Patient of the Week a third time, I think Rob might have gotten a little suspicious about just exactly what was going on at these appointments. And I couldn't explain why I was being recognized and he wasn't. I mean, Rob has also never had any cavities, and has nice teeth, and even flosses. But clearly I had something he lacked. I mean, three-time winner, hello!

But now? The reign is surely over, what with the tooth decay and all. I am imperfect. And an embarrassment to Patients of the Week everywhere.