I loathe going to the dentist... with an all consuming fiery passion. As it turns out, with good reason. I won't admit how many cavities I have or crowns that I need but I will say that I have teeth that are prone to cavities so it's really no surprise. Basically I can't get away with doing the status quo... I have to be the 'over the top flosser, rinser, brusher after every meal'. Which I will gladly be from now on if it keeps me out of the dentist office.
How am I prone you ask? Apparently if you have an extremely high fever when you are between the ages of 4-6 your molars could end up malformed and thus prone to cavities. Who knew? I can't say for sure because my mom is the only person that would know that but I do remember some childhood instances that landed me in the hospital so maybe one of them led to my lovely malformed molars. Add to that I was recently pregnant... did I mention I have a son? I try not to dwell on him but I may have mentioned him once or twice here. Anyway, pregnancy has a way of weakening teeth and leaving them more susceptible to problems...
Enter my day at the dentist... which has gone from appointment 1 of 2 to appointment 1 of 4. Color me thrilled.
Here I am on the death chair. My head is on the 'cushion' they call a headrest. My head is also lower than my feet... which means all the blood is rushing to the one place that hurts the most... my face. The dentist is clearly trying to fit more things into my mouth, which if she did some quick calculations, she would come to understand... there just isn't anymore room. She is pressing down on my mouth... which pushes my head further into the unbending cushion, creating a headache like no other. She is poking prodding and drilling my teeth which thankfully I can barely feel due to the wonderful invention of Novocaine... barely. I feel pressure and scraping... I hear sounds like that of a construction site... I smell smoke and I feel vibrations.
And she asks "is there a reason you are moving your head?"