Fark.
I knew it.
I knew two things.
1. As soon as I sat on that chair I would start blubbering
2. They would try and coerce me into Root Canal. The Evil "Up Sale" of the Modern Dentist.
Unsurprisingly, both things happened. I was waiting for the root canal discussion and had my "take the fucking thing out or else I'll have you kneecapped" response ready. But this wee lad was soooo gentle and nice, he farking CHARMED me into letting him put his needle in my mouth and then his drill and drilling away at my tooth until he found the root, and then drilling away at that until I held up the lollipop stick (the international symbol for STOP or else).....and when my knee started playing "Seven Nation Army" on his chair he was kind enough to allow me a break. Honestly, I did think of blow jobs whilst he was in there, and how those porno women can keep their mouths open that long. I was struggling, I can tell you. In fact the little stream of concious thought that went through my head was something like this.....
"he's drilling into my head, he's about to hit something and its gonna hurt.....keeping my mouth open this long is really hard, how do those porn stars do it?.......he's gonna hit something.......urgh, burning decay, that smells yucky............that farking drill is drilling into my skull......it's gonna hit something very soon......my leg has suddenly developed a very acute case of Parkinsons.......he's drilling into my SKULL....I am not going to die.....it will be over soon......he's still going.....stop!!!!.......surely he's finished.....ok that's enough, I'm going now, I don't care if he's not finished.....please stop drilling.....ohmygod he's stopped drilling and is now poking something very sharp up into my forehead......." etc etc....
I actually didn't think I was going to be able to let him finished, but it is wonderful what shame and fear will do, as well as being hooked up to fifty million different suction methods.
Anyway I lived to tell the tale. Whilst the anaesthetic was still taking effect, I felt like I could hug every single stranger in the street. When it started to wear off and the sensation of having my nerve roots fiddled with became apparent, that feeling subsided somewhat and it was time. Yes it was time to forget work, forget housework and to take as many damn painkillers as was legally possible and bunker down for an afternoon of unadulterated snoring. Then wake up and swiftly replace painkillers with beer. Which I also managed the transition admirably. I am sure tomorrow the pain will be a distant memory and I will be back to my normal self (keeping the fingers crossed for that one....)
I knew it.
I knew two things.
1. As soon as I sat on that chair I would start blubbering
2. They would try and coerce me into Root Canal. The Evil "Up Sale" of the Modern Dentist.
Unsurprisingly, both things happened. I was waiting for the root canal discussion and had my "take the fucking thing out or else I'll have you kneecapped" response ready. But this wee lad was soooo gentle and nice, he farking CHARMED me into letting him put his needle in my mouth and then his drill and drilling away at my tooth until he found the root, and then drilling away at that until I held up the lollipop stick (the international symbol for STOP or else).....and when my knee started playing "Seven Nation Army" on his chair he was kind enough to allow me a break. Honestly, I did think of blow jobs whilst he was in there, and how those porno women can keep their mouths open that long. I was struggling, I can tell you. In fact the little stream of concious thought that went through my head was something like this.....
"he's drilling into my head, he's about to hit something and its gonna hurt.....keeping my mouth open this long is really hard, how do those porn stars do it?.......he's gonna hit something.......urgh, burning decay, that smells yucky............that farking drill is drilling into my skull......it's gonna hit something very soon......my leg has suddenly developed a very acute case of Parkinsons.......he's drilling into my SKULL....I am not going to die.....it will be over soon......he's still going.....stop!!!!.......surely he's finished.....ok that's enough, I'm going now, I don't care if he's not finished.....please stop drilling.....ohmygod he's stopped drilling and is now poking something very sharp up into my forehead......." etc etc....
I actually didn't think I was going to be able to let him finished, but it is wonderful what shame and fear will do, as well as being hooked up to fifty million different suction methods.
Anyway I lived to tell the tale. Whilst the anaesthetic was still taking effect, I felt like I could hug every single stranger in the street. When it started to wear off and the sensation of having my nerve roots fiddled with became apparent, that feeling subsided somewhat and it was time. Yes it was time to forget work, forget housework and to take as many damn painkillers as was legally possible and bunker down for an afternoon of unadulterated snoring. Then wake up and swiftly replace painkillers with beer. Which I also managed the transition admirably. I am sure tomorrow the pain will be a distant memory and I will be back to my normal self (keeping the fingers crossed for that one....)
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