flannel + dentophobia + here's why

I was never scared of the dentist growing up. Ever. But now that I'm in my late-twenties, I am petrified. And it's all because of a giant flannel belly. Let me explain.

2 years ago I found a new dentist up here. He is also the dentist to my husband's family up here, so I thought it would be safe.

It turned out that I needed a LOT of work done. $1,300 to be exact. This dental work happened over the course of a few months, going in every other week. The work wasn't horrible, but it wasn't fun. And I was beginning to dread the appointments. Just imagining them touching my teeth with metal tools was giving me shivers and chills. But I went anyway, until THAT ONE DAY.

THAT ONE DAY I was getting some work done and I was laying back in the chair with my sexy sunglasses on, feeling a little vulnerable. The dentist was on my right hand side, and his assistant on my left hand side.

There came a time when my dentist needed something. A tool or something. And instead of asking his assistant to hand it to him, he leaned over, across my face, and retrieved it himself. All the while, HIS STOMACH IS ON MY FACE. And it wasn't a gentle brush or graze. I'd forgive that, maybe. This was PRESSURE. Constant pressure, against the side of my face. I wanted to scream but I couldn't with all the crap in my mouth. I wanted to ask him,"WHY?! Why aren't you using your assistant?! She's RIGHT THERE. Get your flannel stomach off of my face!! and why on earth are you in flannel?!"

My cries and protests never got the chance to leave my numb mouth. I didn't say anything. But you know what? I haven't been back since. And every month when I am suppose to write out a check for my payment on that $1,300 bill I racked up, I get so mad. So mad that all I can see is green flannel.

Do you guys have dentophobia? Share your trauma!!

1 comment:

Sara said...

that's awful! I have terrible fears of the dentist, but it's really only for fillings not cleanings.
Here's how things go at filling time:
1. show up for appointment after complaining to my coworkers all morning that I have to go there.
2. novocaine is injected
3. I start bawling
4. once I'm done crying I begin operation death-grip on the chair.
5. if I feel pain and have to get an additional shot start over from step 2.