Deep Roots & Moto Boots.

Cold, staring at the florescent lights above me, counting the panels on the ceiling, and apprehensively waiting for the doctor to quite literally strike a nerve, I felt very very far away.
And, I was.

You see, Excedrin and I had spent the better part of last week fighting off headaches and toothaches, waiting for the pain to 'just go away'... And when I woke up Friday morning, the morning I was supposed to leave for the desert to help out at the other store for a couple days, I had a very noticeable swollen area on my cheek, and it become evident that this pain was not, in fact, just going to go away. Now, dentists are not my forte, if you will - I have put off dentists for almost as long as I've been in Southern California - but this pain, and this inflammation was something that could not be ignored. Gross, I know, but it's the truth. 

My Littlest Sister once comforted me, after a tearful phone conversation about my teeth & their notsogreat condition, by reminding me that we all (or at least my little sisters and I) have a tendency to compare ourselves to those around us, and she pointed out,

You know, you can't see the dental records & and the bank accounts of every stranger who walks by. You can't compare yourself to others blindly, because there is so much you don't know.

My sister is so wise. And right.
So, Friday morning after a panicked Google search of 'toothache+swollen face', I found a dentist in my tiny town who had great reviews on Yelp from people in very similar situations as mine, and made an appointment for Monday. I then hopped in the car, drove the two hours to the desert and arrived at the shop - in moto boots & a mini skirt. When I arrived in the cloudless desert I was a little cloudy and very puffy, but I was ready to work. One of the women who I work with, a French woman with a surfer's soul, was shocked that I was actually quite dressed up - and I explained that I was dressed as such to overcompensate for the fact that I was in a terrible amount of pain, and explained to her the situation.
In her French accent she lovingly chastised,

You cannot ignore this! You cannot wait to Monday! You need to be at the dentist now! Now!

It was one of those moments where I felt so small, so childish.
I felt like,

Shopgirl's Little Sister Complex?
Mmmm hmmmm.

'Oh great, three weeks away from the store & I've already fallen apart & turned into a child again.' 

The kind of child that when left to her own devices, eats sugar cereal for dinner and doesn't go to bed until way past her bedtime.
Who doesn't go to the dentist 'cuz I justdon'twanna! 
I walked into my store, and the Shopgirls that have become my family - my boss & her sister, their parents who love me, and even my by-phone coworkers; and yes, I walk in in trouble & my Shopgirl Big Sisters whirl into action.
In fact, they're the only family I feel like the Littlest Sister of. Within twenty minutes of my arrival, she had found a dentist that could see me immediately, and would be open to a payment plan, and Off! I went, without a choice.
For a fucking emergency root canal. 
But even with my Shopgirl Family watching out for me, taking care of me, being there for me, I couldn't help but feel, while sitting in that dentist's chair for four hours, staring at the ceiling, so so far away, and so so Alone.
In so so many ways.
Physically, I was alone at the dentist, over two hours away from my house, my Kat Moss.
From Apartment F.*

*More on that later.

I felt so helpless, and my real family was even farther away. And for the most part, wasn't even aware that I was sitting in the dentist's chair. You know, I had the same sensation that I had when I was in Eighth Grade, puking my guts out in the Principal's Office, and I realized that at 13, I had never thrown up without my mom there to hold my hair back. I'd never been sick without my Mommie. And here, nearing 30, I'd never been to the dentist, let alone to have something like a root canal done, alone. Without my mom or dad, without my Ex's mom or dad. (Because of proximity, I'd leaned his family physically and mentally for so long in lieu of my own parents, that I'd never felt far away from Family when we were together.)
Now don't get me wrong, my Shopgirl family was less than five minutes away, & worried about me, and I could have stayed at their parent's house and been lovingly taken care of for the night to recuperate, but I still just. wanted. to. go. home.
To My Apartment.
And even then, I wished my own parents weren't so far away from there.
After about four hours, with a wonderful dentist in the desert, and a root canal that technically speaking isn't even finished; I was emotionally shaken. Now, if my sprained ankle showed me anything - it's that emotionally speaking, I don't deal with pain well. Especially when feeling helpless and far away from a comforting embrace. And though I was shaken, I pulled myself up by my moto boot-straps, went and filled my prescriptions, and headed Home. 
Home, to a Boyfriend waiting for me.
Home to his comforting embrace.

Yes, I would like fries with that.

You know, when I stepped out of that dentist's office - after paying for nearly a third of the procedure upfront myself - I didn't feel so much like a helpless child. Granted, I was pretty hopped up on pain killers, but I felt a little more like a grown up and less like a kid left to her own devices. And like my sprained ankle, this whole damn thing also showed me that my family - biological or otherwise - well, it's roots are deep; my Tiny Town & my friends within it, or my Shop that is no longer, these are my roots now too.

And with roots like these,
I'll never really be Alone.
No matter how alone I may feel in the moment.

And, I'm not a helpless child, no.
I just sometimes need a little bit of a push.
I'm a grown up that occasionally needs reminding of How to be a grown up.

A grown up who immediately found the nearest Wendy's drive thru and ordered a chocolate Frosty. Because that's what you do after the dentist.
Right?
Right.