Too large a crown
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
No, this isn't a post about my life as a princess. It's about my fear of dentistry.
I have discovered that the best way for me to get almost anything done (besides winning the lottery) is to use that as a reason to avoid going to the dentist. Here are just a few examples:
"Oh, I can't possibly go to the dentist, I have a novel to revise. Any less pain and I may lose my muse."
"There's a sale at Spatula World? I'll have to call the dentist tomorrow."
"You need 600 brownies for the bake sale? No problem, I can see the dentist next month."
Okay, I'm exaggerating. A bit. But something horrible must have happened to me in the dentist's chair as a child to instill such a fear in me. My blood pressure skyrockets, my pulse races and I even get all sweaty.
Don't get the wrong idea folks: I don't consider my female dentist to be a hot prospect. She's nice, but I don't mix fillings with pleasure.
It used to get so bad that I'd have to book a chiropractic appointment to straighten out my neck and shoulders once I got out of the chair alive. All that stress would trap itself into my upper back. If it could talk, it would probably sound like an angry Ozzy Osbourne tune. Then again, all of his songs are pretty angry.
Then I saw Die Hard, the first one.
After Bruce Willis arrives at his wife's office in the LA skyscraper that's gonna blow up, he follows another airplane passenger's advice and takes off his shoes. Supposedly it'll make him feel better.
For Bruce, it didn't turn out that way. But for me, I tried it out at the dentist.
Yippee-ki-yay, it worked.
Now, when I settle into the dentist's chair, I take off my shoes and put all of the stress, fear and angst into my tootsies. The result? Less strain on the back and neck as well as flexed-out feet.
After receiving a crown a few weeks ago, I was experiencing some major freaking pain. I even took some pain-relieving medication that I had a coupon for. Then the pain started waking me up in the middle of the night. So I had to get back in the chair.
Turns out that my crown was too big for my head. Yeah, there's so much material in that sentence alone that I'm gonna leave it at that and wait for Alan Rickman to show up.
I have discovered that the best way for me to get almost anything done (besides winning the lottery) is to use that as a reason to avoid going to the dentist. Here are just a few examples:
"Oh, I can't possibly go to the dentist, I have a novel to revise. Any less pain and I may lose my muse."
"There's a sale at Spatula World? I'll have to call the dentist tomorrow."
"You need 600 brownies for the bake sale? No problem, I can see the dentist next month."
Okay, I'm exaggerating. A bit. But something horrible must have happened to me in the dentist's chair as a child to instill such a fear in me. My blood pressure skyrockets, my pulse races and I even get all sweaty.
Don't get the wrong idea folks: I don't consider my female dentist to be a hot prospect. She's nice, but I don't mix fillings with pleasure.
It used to get so bad that I'd have to book a chiropractic appointment to straighten out my neck and shoulders once I got out of the chair alive. All that stress would trap itself into my upper back. If it could talk, it would probably sound like an angry Ozzy Osbourne tune. Then again, all of his songs are pretty angry.
Then I saw Die Hard, the first one.
After Bruce Willis arrives at his wife's office in the LA skyscraper that's gonna blow up, he follows another airplane passenger's advice and takes off his shoes. Supposedly it'll make him feel better.
For Bruce, it didn't turn out that way. But for me, I tried it out at the dentist.
Yippee-ki-yay, it worked.
Now, when I settle into the dentist's chair, I take off my shoes and put all of the stress, fear and angst into my tootsies. The result? Less strain on the back and neck as well as flexed-out feet.
After receiving a crown a few weeks ago, I was experiencing some major freaking pain. I even took some pain-relieving medication that I had a coupon for. Then the pain started waking me up in the middle of the night. So I had to get back in the chair.
Turns out that my crown was too big for my head. Yeah, there's so much material in that sentence alone that I'm gonna leave it at that and wait for Alan Rickman to show up.
posted by Bonnie Staring at 1:10 PM
3 Comments:
I'll leave the size of your crown alone for now. Do you ever worry that you will take off your shoes and settle back to relax...and then realize that your feet stink really badly? If that makes dentist trips rough for you from now on, you can try going in your pajamas. Nobody can get stressed in their pajamas.
I try not to think about the stink. If it happens, too bad - she can afford an air freshener or gas mask.
I'll let you try the pajama visit first Mike.
Now I know just what to get you for your birthday. ;)
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