Well. I went to the dentist this morning and not only survived, but LOVED my hygienist. Really, everyone in this new dentist's office of mine was kind and wonderful and wielded their pokey metal mouth-weapons with gentleness and patience. Best of all, when I go back in a couple weeks (because of course I have to go back), I will be doing so medicated, because the dentist and hygienist together decided I am just the kind of person who needs a little pharmaceutical assistance when there are drills being used inside my person. Like I said, wonderful people.
They're also being very conscientious about only doing as much work as our insurance will cover, and let me say it is positively delightful to have someone tooling around in my mouth who is not most likely also mentally outfitting his new boat that all this work is paying for.
Let's see, the dentist was great, the hygienist was perfect... who else? OH, YES. There was the lady at the front desk, whom I spoke to twice on the phone before ever arriving and to whom I said things like, "My date of birth? Ummm, I don't- I'm sorry, I just get REALLY ANXIOUS when I talk to you!" Thankfully she couldn't see my free hand flapping manically as I paced around the house. Somehow she divined that I might be just the teensiest bit nervous about visiting the dentist, because as soon as I walked in she told me, "Now, I made sure not to schedule anyone immediately after you, so you have plenty of time, and if it all just gets to be too much, you let them know and they'll stop to give you a little break." Finally, someone who understands me! (Although I would have died before actually asking them for a break; my fear of ever putting anyone out is way too strong for that nonsense.)
|Scariest jack-o-lantern I've ever seen|