All this week my nerves have been a bit frayed. I’ve been uncharacteristically grumpy and out of sorts. It’s my own stupid fault of course. The nagging ache started a few weeks ago and I ignored it. Then it started on the other side and became increasingly unignorable. Yes I know that isn’t a word. But I’m edgy, so it’s fine.
And the nagging ache?
It’s in my mouth. And this is where it gets irritating. I’m terrified of the dentist. I know this would hurt my dentist’s feelings very much if he knew this. He’s a lovely fellow and does lots to put me at ease.
But for some reason, the whole sharp, pointy and often painful objects fill me with terror. This isn’t helped by the fact that I’m lying prone in a chair so it’s not as if I can leap to my poor mouth’s defence.
My internal dialogue has run something like this.
Sane me: “you need to phone and make an appointment.’
Denial me: ‘But what if it just goes away and then I have this appointment and have nothing to tell him?”
Sane me: ‘Dude (yes I call myself that sometimes) you’re in denial. Even the draft from the front door blowing open is bringing tears to your eyes.’
Denial me: ‘Whatever.’
Have you found that word is the most effective and insulting way to end a conversation? I remember particularly difficult students would say that sometimes and leave me completely unable to find an adequate comeback to it.
Thankfully sanity has prevailed and I have phoned to make an appointment to see my dentist.
I’m terrified.
But the ongoing ache has over-ruled the denial and next week I will be brave and get my poor, beleaguered mouth sorted out.
I. Am. Terrified. Have I said that already?
What's your fear?
I. Am. Terrified. Have I said that already?
What's your fear?
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Image courtesy of We Heart it.
Image courtesy of We Heart it.
