To The Dentist I Did Go And Dying Verbs
8:24 am . . . I have a dentist appointment at 2 pm. I am freaking out. I am maintaining a calm exterior here at work, because I am a professional, but internally I am roiling with anxiety. What if the freezing doesn't take like the time I had my wisdoms out? When I went for my check-up a week ago, the assistant told me that stress can be a factor sometimes in whether or not the freezing takes. Well, I can tell you right now, I'm stressing out. Finding out that stress is a factor has done nothing to help me stop stressing about needles and drills and whatnot. I know, I will think of something else. I will divert my own attention by playing a game. The game shall be called "Things that People Hardly Do These Days", and it will save me from gerbil-like circles that my thoughts have become.
11:34 am . . . I leave work in twenty-six minutes. I am going to go home, eat some lunch, and maybe resort to some creative visualization in order to try to remain calm. The above list helped to keep me focused on something other than my impending dentist thing, but now I am peeing every twenty minutes. Anxious tension makes me pee. I hate the word "pee". I know it sounds just like saying the letter P, but still I hate it. In a book I read as a child, peeing was referred to as "making". "I have to make," a character would say. Oh, god, I am suffering here. Maybe I'll take those knock-em-out antihistamines that the Fiery One brought home and force some relaxation on myself. Why don't red and pink go together? I know that they don't go together, but I just don't know why. If a lighter shade of a colour almost always goes with the darker shade, why not pink and red, when pink is merely a lighter shade of red? Maybe it is because we all know deep down that pink should be obliterated. What am I saying?! I loved Luva's pink sneakers, and I have a pair of pants with a hot pink stripe down the side of each leg.
11:43 am . . . Seventeen minutes. In seventeen minutes, I will still have two hours before I have to crawl up into that dentist chair. I think I'm so anxious about leaving work today because it symbolizes another leap toward the inevitable. Okay, maybe it's not inevitable. I could do what I did as a kid and hide out at the ball diamond, toeing the red ball diamond gravel with my sneaker and waiting for eternity to end so I can go home at a less conspicuous time. No. That's ridiculous. I am a grown-up (mostly), so I will go.
3:45 pm . . . I weathered the dentist’s waiting room, I weathered the fifteen-minute wait in the dentist’s chair, and I weathered that raincoat thingy and the needle and all the drilling that took three different drill bits and a pointy metal hook. I didn’t even cry, even though I almost did a handful of times while they left me staring at the ceiling watching the floaties in my eyes swirl around the fluorescent lights. I warned them that even if the freezing did take that it would probably wear off quickly, and it did. I mean, it did take, and then it wore off quickly. Just as she was finishing up, I felt a twinge of pain shoot up a nerve like I was chewing on tinfoil. It was nearly impeccable timing on the part of my nerves. At any rate, I am at home, I have no pain at the moment, and I am hungry as hell and have to wait for a couple of more hours before I can eat anything. I think I will lie down for a nap and sleep off the residual anxiety. I have to keep my strength up for next week’s round, which will include three times the dental work. Wee!