I’m afraid of dentists. I don’t suffer from dentophobia because phobias are irrational and my fear is grounded in facts.
One reason I find the experience so awful is because I’m resistant to the effects of novocaine. Inevitably, I need megadoses in order to numb the affected area.
Last week I had to have some work done. When the dentist entered the room, I reminded her that I’m a chicken and needed nitrous oxide. She assured me that everything would be fine as she hooked me up to the magic gas.
As the nitrous started to take hold, I stopped hyperventilating, my body became less tense (although not relaxed) and the room began to spin. Mysteriously it only spun to the right yet remained in the same place. As more gas entered my system, voices drifted farther away and so did the pain.
As usual, the dentist injected me with novocaine and attempted to begin her work a few minutes later. When the area wasn’t numb, she added more and more again. While completing the final injection, she commented that I would be numb for a long, long, time. At this point the room stopped spinning and I started to fly. I swear I had an out of body experience.
Although I enjoy the feeling of nitrous, it’s akin to taking laughing gas in hell. I want the experience but the location sucks. It’s too big a price to pay just to get the gas.
When I left the office, my cheek felt like it was the size of a hamster’s who had just stuffed a pound of seeds and nuts into his mouth.
As I write this blog, I’m left with a hefty bruise on my cheek and psychological scars that refuse to heal.
Until the next time, I’ll brush, floss, and convince myself that dentists only exist in horror stories.
May the farce be with you!
Your IFF,
Pam
This is me at the dentist