I can ignore it and pretend it's not sharp, or I can go to the dentist and get it fixed.
Now a normal person would automatically choose the latter. I too will have to choose the latter, but I'll choose the later and then pretend I've done something about it. I can do this type of thing for months.
See chumlies, I don't care a hoot about getting stitches in my head, or needles in my arm or bad haircuts or getting my eyes tested or taking medicine or stripping off naked in front of a doctor or peeing into cups or any off those things. I'm a very rational human being. Mostly.
But when it comes to the dentist all rationality goes straight out the window. I am reduced to a quivering mess even at the very thought of a dental visit. I"m serious, I turn into smooch the moment I cross the threshold. I've fled from a dentists office once, he said 'open your mouth please' and I said, 'aieeeeeeeeee!' and ran for my life. I burst out of his office with the blue paper still around my neck, eyes wide, with flecks of pink foam around my mouth, reeled around the waiting room- scaring the bejayous out of the other patients waiting and then when his dental nurse said, 'Miss fatcat wait!' I yelled, 'No! NO! forget about it, sorry about that, I'll call okay, we'll do it again bye bye bye...'
I fled and was hyperventilating on the street for almost two minutes feeling like a absolute idiot, but also relieved that my fight or flight responses were so sharp.
Then there was the time I went to a chap who 'specialised' in nervous patients. I was there for so long -turning my head every time he tried to inject me- that he eventually had to grumpily send the rest of his appointments home. He wasn't quite so patient with me after that, which made me worse and finally he threw up his hands in despair and said, 'WILL YOU JUST HOLD STILL FOR A MOMENT!"
I burst out crying and began to hyperventilate, and so we danced on until finally he just sort of stabbed me with the needle. Of course I bolted from the chair- with the bloody thing still in my gum which totally terrorised me and him...oh it was a disaster (he retired not long after and I always wonder was it my patronage that pushed him over the edge)
I've had emergency root canal done at 2:30 am by an extremely pissed off dentist, still in tails as he had to come from a party to save me. The reason he had to save me at all was the pain was so bad the 18 or so Anadin I was taking a day and had been for almost nine months just weren't cutting it any longer.
That was a mess. Even in agony I had to be talked back into the chair about five times. How he didn't just club me over the head and be done with it I"ll never know.
I know I should go and get this fixed immediately, and I swear to chulutha I'll make some kind of phone call today. But right now I"m just going to sit here and gibber to myself softly for a while and hope the the one Dentist I know who uses a complete anaesthetic will have an opening this side of Christmas.
Anyone else got an irrational fear? It's probably dentists, right? RIGHT?
Labels: the fear.