yle="padding-top: 0pt;" class="paragraph_style_1">I’m in a medical state of mind these days and I know there are some out there who like me qualify for the ‘dental phobic’ category.  As a matter of fact I announce my category to the receptionist with each new dentist I try.  I’ve tried a LOT of dentists because they may seem alright at first but some of them mean me great harm or might be too neglectful of me and then there are the ones who want to do too much.  I’ve had them all.

As a child The Ancient one thought I wouldn’t mind going to a dentist who was in her social circle.  Never mind that the guy was 6’4” with an anger management problem.  He used to get pissed off and throw instruments around the room...with me as a wee little girl frightened beyond measure shivering in the big chair with the spotlight blinding my sensitive little eyes.  Oh and he yelled at his nurse which really made me mad.  That was about 54 years ago and I’ve been a dental phobic ever since.

In any family there seem to be two groups...siblings who have perfect teeth no cavities or malformations of any kind and the ‘other’ group who had their first cavity at age three teeth going off in every direction with a tongue like a heat-seeking missile following the dentist’s every move around the mouth.  I will curse SalGal until her passing for being in the first group of those with perfect teeth.  She doesn’t have the first clue what mouth pain really is.  Actually aside from a time or two when the medication was wearing off neither do I.

I am so heavily medicated on Valium when I have to have work done in my mouth that SalGal has to drive me to and fro. I shuffle slowly into the waiting room like the old man from Laugh-In feet never actually leaving the floor head dropped drool dripping from the corners of the mouth...pretty much nearing a comatose state.  That’s the way I go to the dentist.  Oh and then I demand the nitrous oxide on top like the cherry on top of the whipped cream of intoxicants I have swallowed.

I could have missed all of the dental pain I’ve had to endure through the years had I not begun my movie popcorn addiction at the age of six.  Fifty-one years I’ve scarfed down a family-sized tub of popcorn at my weekly movies...down to the very last very hard un-popped kernel until I put the tub down to finally focus on the film.  I have never been able to rid myself of this addiction and now it’s the only one I have left.  So I have a continuous supply of Valium (okay I do cheat and take one just for fun every few months or so...sue me)...for every time I need to have the dentist re-adjust my ‘partial.’  Yes I’ve had a few teeth pulled that accidentally cracked on those last kernels of popcorn but that’s a trade-off that I’m willing to accept for just one more handful of the puffy stuff. 

I guess I shouldn’t complain but then life is just a series of trade-offs is it not?

KK

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I hate going to the dentist more than anything.  It’s true that KK has had more unfortunate experiences with dentists than I have but being afraid of that office and the tools they use is an archetypal fear.  The only scarier thing that I have done is stand-up comedy.  Both are frightening enough to cause heart failure and both can leave you shaky and in need of a Xanax beforehand and a stiff drink immediately afterward.  Some people use marijuana but that involves hiding in the alley and I would rather chill at home with that whole idea.

I had a baby tooth come out of the bottom left side of my mouth when I was about twelve years old.  Our dentist’s name was Dr. Dean Stract and he saw after a while that a new one would never grow in so he made me a false tooth in a cradle of steel that slipped right into my mouth and it’s still there!  I am 58 years old for God’s sake.  That means this thing has been in my mouth for 46 years! Sure my partial is a little loose and I can’t eat Milk Duds anymore but I’ve had it for so long now that it seems like a part of me.  Like my toenails…or maybe my hair.  You have to clean it every day make sure it doesn’t go down the drain in the bathroom sink and keep the cats from using it as a push toy.

Yeah I lucked out in the tooth department.  The worst thing that ever happened in my mouth was when I had to get my two upper molars removed.  That hurt like a son-of-a-bitch and they didn’t warn me at all.  I even went back to work that day thinking this is a piece of cake.  When the drugs wore off toward the end of the day I thought I was dying.  Either that or a bat had flown into my mouth and was eating my head from the inside out.  It was grim and I ended up in bed for three days reading The National Inquirer and watching reruns of The Dick VanDyke Show.

And how about the sound of the drill?  Is that the scariest?  It makes you feel like you got caught in a scary movie.  I know I know…it doesn’t hurt but it’s just the sound of it.  You hear the sound of liquid and the light is in your eyes as dim faces peek at you from the darkness and you feel like you are drowning and…wait a minute I’m on stage in a comedy club and I’m dyin’ up here….please let this be a dream please let this be a dream please let this be a dream….

Wait a minute there’s laughter and applause!  My dentist and hygenist love me.