Is hi-jinx a word? My thesaurus doesn’t know it, am I even close the right spelling?
When I was a child I remember trips to the dentist as being a bit intimidating. They take you in a small room, little to no natural light, seat you in a chair, shine a bright light in your face and ask questions. Do you floss? Afraid to say no for fear of what they may do to me I would lie. I’d lie like my life depended on it. A big hearty nod, “Of course.” I’d say, not really knowing that as soon as I opened my mouth he’d know different. I didn’t have many cavities while I was growing up. I’d make sure that I brushed well, and often, to avoid the scrutinizingly evil glares I would get from my mom when the dentist announced I had a cavity. Those glares could melt steel. Put Superman’s heat vision to shame.
Plus, as much as I feared my mom, I was scared of needles more; and every filling meant two needles in the gums. That’s enough to (almost) swear any child off candy and pop for life.
I’m not entirely sure where my fear of needles came from. I can definitely tell you where it escalated though. My memory is a bit jagged, but I can still envision most of it.
I was no more the six years old. I had to get a booster shot, or a needle for something. My doctor used to scare the shit out of me. I was young, innocent, and unknowing; but he had a stroke years before and was paralyzed on the right side of his body and required a cane to walk. Actually it was more of a shuffle. As a child I can remember how I used to stare, and be scared that if he touched me “it” would transfer and I would get “it” too.
So, I was there for this needle; I can’t remember what provoked me, but I know that I ran. I ran and hid under the secretary’s desk, he shuffled along behind me trying to catch up, all the while my mom is yelling at me. Scared out of my mind I huddled in the corner trying to avoid his grasp. I didn’t want to catch “it”, and at this rate, I was doomed. No where to go. I had to act fast. As he bent down and tried to reach me again I bit him. I bit him hard. Right square in the hand. Must have hurt like a bitch too because he backed a way really fast and made me mom come in and get me.
I was in for it now. She was going to beat me like I was a redheaded step child when we got home. I surrendered and went back to the room. At this point my little brother was sitting there crying in hysterics; waiting his turn for a needle too. I hadn’t heard him while I was running for my life, but I could hear him now, and the rest of the office was looking at my mom (with what was probably pity or hatred) because of us.
I must have blacked out after that because I have no recollection of the needle itself, just a fear that has been with me to this day.
Which brings me to this.
Went to the dentist today. We’re so fortunate? to have one that open on Saturdays. He’s really good – sensitive, understanding, gentle and fast! Which is great for me because I have anxiety when it comes to the dentist. Not a fear, just anxiety. Maybe it’s the bright lights and the big chair?
I have one cavity again. I am really good about brushing… but yet it seems once a year (almost) I have a cavity. Meanwhile Mike eats shit food all the time and yet, he has nothing. So I have to go back in a weeks time to get a filling. So, if you read above you understand. I’m far from thrilled about this.
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