I suppose that’s why they call it an irrational phobia

I did something pretty rare and overwhelming yesterday. On shaking knees, I managed to drag myself down to the dentist and set up an appointment for next Monday. My shaking knees weren’t caused by excess alcohol assumption, an undiagnosed sinus infection, a raging fever or other things that have been known to cause such reactions in me. No, rather it was caused by a strange, irrational and raging phobia on my behalf; namely a strange fear of dentists, their chairs and the bizarre array of equipment they pack.

Consequently, I’m not really sure if I should be proud of myself for having overcome my fear and booked an appointment or being really embarrassed that I pack such a phobia in the first place. It’s funny, really. I’m generally not afraid of a whole lot of things in this world. Au contraire, mes amis. I’ve investigated supposedly haunted locations, I’ve eaten some of the strangest things on the planet, I’ve jumped through windows of burning buildings to get people out, I’ve sprinted half way across town to protect Tina from a drugged up fucking psychopath, I’ve even been in a mosh pit at Turbonegro concert.. But seeing the dentist? Umm.. No thank you?

I’m really not sure how that works, but I suppose that’s why they call it an irrational phobia. Of all the things in the world I could be afraid of, I chose (well, okay.. I didn’t exactly chose, but you get my drift) dentists and needles. And on top of that I’m really, really creeped out and borderline scared of porcelain dolls? What’s up with that?! Honestly!

So from that perspective, booking an appointment to have a dentist put me in a dentist’s chair and (more than likely) poke my mouth with needles really doesn’t seem like the best and smartest idea ever. But I guess that neither does running around with cracked teeth.. Sigh! Really, the only thing that could make this experience much worse is if I were to find out that my dentist is actually a porcelain doll collector and has decided to put her collection up for display at the clinic.. But, eh, with my usual luck.. Let’s not even dare to think that thought.

All that being said, I am quite looking forward to the whole thing being over on Monday. Walking around with a gaping hole in the front of tooth is one of the most annoying experiences ever. It doesn’t really hurt per se, but there are momentary flashes of discomfort and it just feels wrong, like something is missing or whatever, and the jagged edge of the crack tears at my lip blah.. It’s a strange mixed feeling of really, really not looking forward to noon Monday because of the forthcoming procedure but at the same time really looking forward to Monday afternoon and having a whole tooth again, being able to chew properly and all that jazz, I feel as if my face is growing a little crooked and malformed from only chewing with the right side of my mouth.

And this entire mess just from eating lasagna? Honestly, what gives? Okay, I’m done bitching about teeth and dentists now, promise!


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