Last week I went to the dentist.  It was a routine thing – a scale and polish.  Even though there was nothing in particular to be done, I made an optimistic statement: The days you go to the dentist make you appreciate even more the days you don’t.  It’s not about the appointment itself.  I’m not afraid of the little drill thing, or the mini vacuum, or even the thing that looks like a tiny pick axe and makes an annoying high pitch noise when it pricks your gums.  It’s not about the dentist either, because mine is a sweetheart. …