I loathe going to the dentist. I loathe it because I turn it into an anxiety fest and I usually end up with a migraine as a result.

A few weeks ago a tooth of mine broke which is when I remembered that my dentist had told me two years ago that I better do something about it or it will break. I didn't do anything about it. It broke.

I had to go. No ifs or buts. I had to go. Or walk around with a tooth that you could hide a year's supply of food in without even knowing it.

A friend recommended his dentist and he told me that this dentist is really good. I had nothing to lose. I went to that dentist. It was really hard to get an appointment. It's a good sign that. Lousy dentist always have lots of empty time slots for you. Good dentist are hard to get an appointment with.

Wednesday last week I went. It was in the middle of the day and it was hot as hell. It's mid winter here but the weather does as it pleases so it was hot as hell. I arrived at the dentist and I walked into through the door and there's the dentist in front of reception reading a magazine all casual like. He grinned as though he had been caught doing something naughty, like dentists aren't supposed to read time magazine or something.

This dentist insisted being called by his first name which is kind of neat. He also looks like a dentist should. If you wanted to make a movie that had a dentist in it you would want him to look like Richard the dentist. If you wanted to make one of those ads where you say "This is Rob. He's a dentist so we can't show you his face." you wouldn't use Richard because you would want to show Richard's face or it would just be a bloody waste. You'd change the storyboard for the ad.

Richard's tall and all smiles and tells you everything he does so you don't get surprised by water, air, drills and other crap dentist pull to do their thing to your teeth. And yet I ended up with the second worst migraine I've ever had last Wednesday. Because I really get that worked up about going to the dentist that I can't cope with it and the heat and everything.

I barely got home. I had to stop to vomit in a public toilet and I sat on the train nearly getting arrested by police because I looked like I was jacked up on heroin. I'm fairly certain that's what they thought. They were looking at me funny.

I had to go back last Wednesday to do the rest. Other teeth. More teeth. Cleaning. Fluoride. The lot. Because I told Richard the dentist that we may as well before I chicken out again. I wasn't looking forward to it. I cheated and took half a Xanax to try to not get all full of anxiety and get a full on migraine. Again. This time the cops would have arrested me for sure. You can't get away with being on a train jacked up on heroin twice. I think. I don't really know for sure because I don't do that sort of thing.

Now it is possible to still fret while on Xanax. Apparently. You just have to work harder at it.

I started out working really hard at being full of anxiety. An hour later I had to ask for a toilet break because when I'm nervous I pee a lot. Luckily Richard doesn't mind his patient taking toilet breaks.  Half an hour after that I was catching myself falling asleep in the chair because I had relaxed so much. I don't think it was only the Xanax. The man, the dentist, had achieved the impossible. While hammering away at my teeth he actually made me feel like it was going to be OK. He may have used voodoo or some other witch doctor magic crap. Or maybe it was the comic relief I got from his extraordinarily clumsy dental nurse whose favorite trick was to drop the suction thingie on both me and her resulting in the only words I really heard from her being "Sorry! Oh, I"m so sorry!".

Either way, I don't have to go back to the dentist for like forever now and I have much cleaner and whiter teeth. That makes me smile a lot more. Not all dentist are bad.


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