Monday, September 14, 2009

In the Chair

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.

6 comments:

  1. I feel ya, sister...I am right there with ya!!

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  2. Ooooh. That's a rough day. And on a MONDAY no less. It can only get better from here, right?!

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  3. I'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.

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  4. I 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! :)

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  5. I so sympathize! And let's hope that your being forewarned and modern dentistry enable you to avoid the family history in that respect.

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  6. Oooooh, sorry. Big hug your way!

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