I have issues with teeth

It must have started from the Bugs Bunny and Road Runner cartoons I used to watch when I was little. If you've seen these cartoons, then you know that frequently some act of violence would cause one of the character's teeth to shatter like a broken plate. I might have laughed or I might have cringed. It never mattered because in the next scene, the teeth were back in place like nothing happened. I blame the cartoons because these are the images I always come back to when I think about my own teeth.

I can handle nails on a chalkboard, but I can't stand the sound of teeth grinding together. When I think about falling off a bike, I'm more terrified of breaking my teeth than I am of breaking my arm or my nose. I can sit for an hour while someone uses a needle to put ink into my skin, but I get jumpy when a dentist comes towards my gums with a needle filled with novacaine.

And today, I have to go to the dentist for just that. I found out two weeks ago that I cracked a filling. Apparently, it has to be replaced, although the crack isn't bothering me, so I don't understand why. My dentist said something about decay behind the filling, but who knows because I stopped listening after I heard that I would have to come back to get the filling replaced.

I have two fillings. I remember the last one more vividly than the first because I remember my dentist holding the needle up and saying, "Are you ready?" And I remember that when he said this, I promptly slid out of the chair and stood facing him. My answer was no. Fortunately, my dentist had a sense of humor and gently coaxed me back in the chair for a horrific hour-long torture session where I can still hear the grinding and feel chards of tooth hitting my cheek.

And now, to keep my teeth healthy, I am supposed to docilely get in the car and drive to the dentist today for more of this hell? To say I've fantasized more than once today about "forgetting" my appointment would be an understatement. I've actually thought about leaving my office and heading south, the opposite direction of where my dentist is. Too bad I don't have my car today, otherwise I might do just this. John has my car because it's getting work done on it, and he might miss his car if I flee the state with it.

So here I am, turning 29 in less than a week and still feeling like a 9 year old when my teeth are involved. My only options are drill or tooth decay, and I'm somehow going to have to muster up the strength to choose the former so that I don't end up with teeth like the coyote after an anvil smacks him the mouth.

Posted by Kim at January 18, 2007 01:47 PM