Roller Coaster of Terror

I'm currently sitting in my office trying not to be a giant wuss. The closer the clock creeps to 4:30 the more my stomach starts to turn and the anxiety grows. It's a little bit like the feeling you get when you are climbing up a roller coaster for the first time. One click at a time...click...click...click... Then your stomach flutters a little with the approaching drop. You're both scared and a little excited. Well replace the excited with more scared and that's how I feel. My drive home will feel like that click-click of the roller coaster.

I hate needles. I hate going to the dentist even for the simplest cleanings and fillings. I can't explain the origin of the irrational fear; I can only tell you that it's there. I have to tell myself to breath in and out when they give me the shots of Novocain in my soft lip and gum tissue. I really hate shots. I'm normally tough about stuff but by my 6 p.m. appointment is sort of freaking me out.

By 7:00 it should all be over. They will have scraped my teeth with the tool of torture to complete my deep cleaning. They will have stuck my mouth with several needles and wedged the numbing liquid into the muscle of my jaw. They will have ripped one tooth out and cut open my gums to wrestle the other out of it's solid, permanent home before stitching me up. I will be numb and hopefully I won't feel anything except the "pressure" I hear about. I will be bleeding. And hopefully soon after that, I will be sleeping.

And yet I still feel like I need to make it seem like no big deal so Lil Man won't be afraid of his dental visits. Monkey see, monkey do. Right? Remember to breathe. Remember not to cry. Remember to wipe my tears before I go to the waiting room if I do. Remember that the dentist specializes in extractions. Remember that it will be OK. Breathe.