Dentist - drillI hate going to the dentist – the sound of a dentist’s drill carving up my tooth and that painful Novocain needle. And that’s what I’m about to endure today. I am going to dread this…..

12:15pm: I am sitting in the lobby of the dentist office, reading an issue of Lady’s Home Journal from May 2007, because it’s either that or a 2009 issue of Field & Stream – anything to distract my brain from the fact that shortly I’m going to be in serious emotional distress, contemplating the dentist’s drill boring through my mouth like a construction worker chiseling a concrete sidewalk.

12:21: Uh oh. It’s time. They just called me in. The hygienist’s name is Maria. She seems nice. Kind of cute, actually. But I know what’s in store after I walk through that door. The dentist will start wielding his evil-looking torture device, and I’ll be clutching the armrests so tightly I’ll leave permanent indentations.

12:25: Time for the Novocain. Did I mention I have a phobic fear of needles? The dentist is pulling one out of his quiver roughly the length of a knitting needle. Is it only me or did he just flash a sinister sneer behind his mask? I’ll bet he loves this part. My stomach is a ball of knots. My heart is racing.

12:26: Maria sees me closing my eyes and grimacing. She asks me if I would like them to use nitrous oxide (laughing gas). “What’s does it do?” I ask her. She explains that it may help me relax and take my mind off of the procedure. “Sure, why not?” I tell her.

12:29: Maria puts a mask on my face and tells me to breathe in and out through my nose. Nice try, but there’s no way this is going to help me relax. Just look at that needle – it must be as long as my 9-iron.

12:36: Looks like the dentist is about to inject the back of my mouth. Whatever. I wonder why I was so nervous. It’s just a needle. And the worst thing that his drill might do is merely slice through my tongue and jaw. So what if he drills into a nerve? Nerves are expendable, aren’t they?

12:39: My, I am suddenly feeling rather light-headed. I’ve never felt like this before. Look at my hands – wow – they’re so huge! And look! I have opposable thumbs! When did that happen? Amazing!

12:43: I love kittens. They are so fuzzy. I think we could solve all the world’s problems if everyone had a kitten. There would be no wars, because people would be too busy patting their kitties. I need to tell the President about my plan for world peace.

Dentist -polar bears12:46: I hear a buzzing, whirring sound. I wonder what it is. There’s this man. He’s poking something in my face. Who is he? He’s wearing a mask. Maybe he’s the Lone Ranger. No wait, the Lone Ranger’s mask covers his eyes, not his mouth. Oh, right, this is probably my dentist. And he’s with a lady. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen! Incredible! I like sailboats. I wonder if she likes sailboats. I think she likes me.

12:52: That man with the mask is wearing a bright white costume. Maybe he’s God. God sure wears funny glasses. Is this Heaven? I wonder if they’ll give me my own angel wings. I hope they have them in size large.

12:58:  Yes, I definitely think I’m in love. If I asked the beautiful lady to marry me, would she think it’s too sudden? I barely know her. Maybe I should buy her a monkey first. I bet she’d like that. You can’t go wrong with monkeys.

1:07: That man with the mask is really getting close to me. Is he trying to kiss my mouth? Doesn’t he know I’m not gay? At least I wasn’t when I had breakfast this morning…. Which reminds me, I wonder if hippos bounce.

1:18: That was strange. I could have sworn Pope Francis just gave me the secret Papal handshake. But now that I open my eyes and look around, that may have just been the dentist shaking my hand. I’m thinking the part where I won the Olympic gold medal in Hugging may have just been a hallucination. That’s very disappointing. The dentist says that the crown procedure is over. He’s asking me to rinse my mouth.

1:24: Maria tells me I was a great patient. Then she asks me who the woman was that I proposed to while I was sedated. She gives me a new toothbrush. I really don’t remember much of what happened over the past hour. But I know one thing for sure: I LOVE GOING TO THE DENTIST.

Now that I think about it, my back upper right molar looks to be in need of a crown, too. I wonder if I they can fit me in again next week.

That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.

Tim Jones - Profile at Safeco - TinyPS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by posting a comment, giving it a Like or sharing this post on Facebook.

© Tim Jones, View from the Bleachers 2015