To say I have anxiety about going to my new dentist later today would be a vast understatement.
Horrified would be more like it.
If I did not have a molar with a dull ache right now, I would hold out until June when I will be returning to Texas for a long weekend.
Like many people, or not so many people, I am a creature of habit. I exercise at the same time on the same days, I get cash from the same ATM, go to the same grocery store, I walk the exact same way path to and from work, I'm a stickler for timing and I am fiercely brand-loyal. I also like my doctors, but the problem is that they're all in Texas.
Some of my most frequently-visited doctors: my dentist, optometrist and orthodontist, are all trusted family friends. My dentist, however, holds the particular distinction of being the only dentist I have ever been to, period.
People scraping and poking around mirrors in my mouth is basically like torture for me. It is, for me, to the mouth what nails on a chalkboard are to the ears. I will do any and everything I can to maintain the cleanliness of my teeth between visits because it is worth it to me to minimize time in The Chair. I brush twice a day, I floss regularly, I keep order... not to mention the fact that it is my right as an American to be vain about my teeth.
Adding to my stress is the fact that I will be using my employer's insurance (MINE- not my Dad's, MINE) and have not attempted to use it before now.
The idea of someone other than my trusted dentist of the past 23 years looking around in my mouth with tools sends shivers down my spine. I'm already nauseous.
I've been told these are the same symptoms of falling in love, which sounds hideous if you ask me.
"We all basically go back to being children when we're in a dentist chair."
-Arthur Benjamin
1 comment:
Glad to know you survived as shown by the more recent posts but was it as bad as you thought it'd be?
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