I have many fears, many of them you might have already read about on this blog. But those aren’t really my biggest ones. Anyone who really knows me knows that clowns rank right up there, but there’s one that takes the cake over all others… the dentist.
I don’t know what it is, maybe I just watched Little Shop of Horrors too many times as a kid and it’s funny but as a kid I wasn’t that scared of going. I mean it’s not something that I looked forward to. I mean, I would have rather gone to Skateland instead, but I guess I felt pretty ambivalent about the whole thing. But now? There is nothing that strikes more fear into my heart than making a dental appointment for myself and GOING!
We moved since Henry’s last appointment and I found a great dental office right here in Shelburne to take him to, so I called the other day to make a first time patient appointment for him and the nice lady on the other end of the phone asks,
“Now, would you also like to make an appointment for yourself while I have you on the phone?” The blood stopped in my veins. Time stood still. It was as if she was asking me,
“Now would you like me stick a live cattle prod in your ear while I have you on the phone?” I took a sip of water to clear out my instant cotton mouth and said,
“No.” Coward. Yellow belly.
Why am I so afraid of going? I can tell you exactly why reader and I don’t need to be laying on a psychiatrist couch to tell you either. I haven’t gone in a really long time.
For a while I was without health insurance and so no dental either. So no visits. This went on for a few years and then I had a child and I completely stopped taking care of my teeth. I was working a third shift job and taking care of my son during the day, so I was drinking massive amounts of soda and eating the same amount of candy to stay awake and most days crashing into bed without even touching a tooth brush. (Pretty gross, right?)
Now, I’m sooo paying the price. I’m sure I have cavities and I have some pretty bad gum recession too. I know all of that sits in my mouth and it makes me terrified to go. What will the dentist think?
I keep picturing the dentist looking in my mouth and in his most perfect Charlton Heston voice saying,
“Good God, I’ve never seen a mouth as bad as this in all my years of practicing.” Then he’ll call of his med students in to look at how badly I’ve treated my mouth. They’ll take pictures for medical journals, some may even pass out or vomit in the corner.
And then there’s the issue of pain. How much is it going to hurt to fix all of the damage my laziness has incurred? Will I be able to find child care for all of the follow up appointments that I KNOW I’ll need?
But then I thought about it. I’m sending Henry there. I’m telling him HE needs to go, but not going myself.
“Henry? You need to battle this crocodile for your own good. Oh me? Ha ha ha. I sure as hell ain’t doin’ it!” Not right. What kind of an example is that? Not a great one. Damn children and their impressionable minds… making us have to face our fears and be all… adult.
So now you know my biggest fear. Let’s see if I can conquer it. I hope to. I hope I can, if not for the sake of my health, then my son’s future health.
Just please don’t put that dentist in a clown outfit or I’m done with the whole thing.