I'm phobic. I'm afraid to go to the dentist. No reason, just phobic.
So today I'm going in to get my chops fixed. I busted a chop last week, and today I'm getting a new cap installed. And then, just because I guess, while I was getting my chops cleaned last week one of the caps came off. I'll give the hygienist credit; she didn't say what I'd have said which would be something along the lines of Oh holy hell on a biscuit... don't move, I'll get the dentist. Oh yeah.
I take drugs to calm me down. My old dentist suggested he give me a running start across the parking lot and he'd nail me with a tranquilizer rifle.
My appointment is this afternoon.
I don't like the dentist but it is my youngest that has a meltdown at the thought of seeing a dentist
ReplyDeleteI imagine with you, it might take two or three darts....
ReplyDeleteFour words: Drugs Are Your Friend.
ReplyDeleteI let my teeth get in bad shape because I am just no longer able to endure dental work. Found a place that uses nitrous. I'm getting them taken care of. It's not pleasant, but it's not awful that way.
ReplyDeleteJo-Anne: I had to have most of my baby teeth pulled. That would have been back in 1957 or so, and the stupid adults were reluctant to give a child aspirin let alone any real anti-inflammatory meds.
ReplyDeleteCW: Yeah, I was quick! Ah, and resistant to meds. Being used to operating under an impaired awareness...
Robert: One word: Xanax.
Justin: That's how I got back in the chair. I learned a thing or two when I had a deep cleaning done. "We get you so screwed up on drugs you're not going to care what we do." He was right.