I can think of no worse place to be than the Chair.
My shoulders tighten and levitate up to my earlobes. My fingers grip the armrest, claw like. My toes curl. I feel my blood pumping through my veins. One leg crosses over the other.
When I become conscious of my body language, I am a human pretzel.
I take a breath to calm down, uncurl my toes, and loosen my grip on the armrest. It lasts for about 40 seconds.
It’s not without reason: my first root canal had to be done 3 times. I’m still not convinced it’s right, but you can bet I’m not saying anything until the pain is so excruciating that I can’t stand upright.
When I’m in the chair, inevitably I think about the dream I had in my thirties: I’m standing in front of the sink and my teeth fall in a graceful arc into the sink, plink, plink, plink.
I wonder if the family genes will catch up with me, after all these trips to the Dentist's Chair.
I feel ya, sister...I am right there with ya!!
ReplyDeleteOoooh. That's a rough day. And on a MONDAY no less. It can only get better from here, right?!
ReplyDeleteI've considered having all my teeth removed and getting implants so I only have to go to a doc if they fall out or need replaced. I have complete fear of dentists.
ReplyDeleteI know how you feel. It makes a huge difference in who you see as a dentist. I am more loyal to my dentist and the sweet lady that cleans my teeth than I am to any of my other doctors. Bless your heart! :)
ReplyDeleteI so sympathize! And let's hope that your being forewarned and modern dentistry enable you to avoid the family history in that respect.
ReplyDeleteOooooh, sorry. Big hug your way!
ReplyDelete