There's a reason Vinny is a bad-guy name.

Some people spend Spring Break at the beach getting a tan and forgetting about the world. Last time I did that, I got a sunburn so bad that I had to take steroids. This Spring Break, I got two cavities filled and went to the doctor. I don't think Spring Break likes me.

First: my teeth.

 On Monday, I go in for a cleaning, thinking no problem, I floss and brush plenty. My teeth will pass with flying colors. By the end, the dental-lady (who is really nice, but whose name I can never recall) was stabbing a hook into my tooth, going, "Looks like you've got a little cavity--oh, two little cavities!"

WAH...?. 

Ok, no big deal Laura. Last time you had a tooth filled, the big mouth shot only hurt a little bit and you were ok. 

No. I went in this morning expecting the tiny mouth  shot and got two big ones in a row, with the dentist flapping my cheek back and forth to make sure it all got in there. OW. OWOWOWOW. STOP LACERATING MY RAGGED CHEEK. 

Thankfully, this meant that I felt nothing as they took care of the "little" cavities. For the next few hours after, the entire left side of my jaw felt like dead weight and I kept accidentally biting my tongue when I talked. From now on, I'm brushing for three minutes every time. Promise. 

Second: St. George

St. George is the G.I. doctor whose name is actually Dr. Brown, but I prefer to call him St. George because I expect him to kill the dragon in my belly. For all intensive purposes, I'm naming the dragon "Vinny". 

Anyway, yesterday my mother and I dragged Vinny down to meet St. George. I was scared he would actually try to meet Vinny face-to-face, but no one stuck me with anything or looked inside me and I was beyond thrilled. No, St. George was a very nice man and we talked for a while. He even used the phrase "the beast within", so I knew he was perfect. 

He said that Vinny was probably of the Acid Reflux species. He wasn't sure where Vinny came from, but maybe when I had the first stomach bug the valve between my stomach and esophagus--the one that's supposed to hold Vinny hostage--got loose and hasn't healed up. 

He gave me some new pills and I am scolding Vinny to take and use them. I also have a new battle plan to eat less, not eat after eight, sleep propped up, and take lots of Tums. If the war plan leads to victory in a couple of months, I'll be all clear. If not, then I have to have an acid probe. That means they would put me under, stick a tube with a camera on it down my throat to check Vinny out, and then leave a metal capsule in there for a couple days to track the fire he's breathing up my esophagus. Depending on how bad that is, there could be surgery (BUT I HOPE NONE OF THAT HAPPENS).

Today I tried the new medicine and had significantly less heartburn. Let's hope it stays that way.

The rest of Spring Break has been significantly less painful. I've spent some solid time with mom--shopping in Knoxville, going to the Bush's Beans family restaurant and museum (I'm slowly morphing into a gin-you-wine Tennessean. I've even fallen back into the accent. YES.), and making cupcakes. Last night Daniel made me go to Walmart with him to help pick out clothes for his new job--and then he talked my ear off about all his feelings. It was great. 

This family stuff--I'm afraid of losing it. I feel like I'm in the twilight of my childhood. Soon enough there'll be another sunrise and I will be a big girl, far away. Will I feel as close to them then? Should I stay here to keep as close as I can? Daniel's going to college soon and Audrey's going to get her learner's permit this month--when did that happen?? When did my mom get so weak? When did dad get so tired? When did we leave behind the days when we were together all the time, building forts and making mudslides out of the swingset? 

Deep breath, Laura. Life goes by fast for a reason. 

Also, my mother keeps talking about marriage and I think she's got it in her head that I'm going to meet my husband this summer. Oh boy.