Dental Disaster

The sight of the tiny elevator sent me to the stairs. Into the office I wandered. Once I settled into the chair, the dentist came to talk to me. The numbing process began. Three shots later, it had not taken to his liking. The gums were given an extra dosage as a precaution, and he proceeded with care. The chair held me for what was at least an hour. My body shook without my consent. He continued to check on me as the nerves had gotten the best of me. I just wanted him to finish. Between the sight and sounds of the tools, the process was entirely too much for me. The comedy on the virtual television was an attempt at a proper distraction. I thought about my father. I thought about a new friend. The chair continued to hold me, and he continued to work.
Throughout the procedure, there were random spurts of sensations that should not be experienced by anyone. Apparently, the tissues in the tooth were extremely inflamed and there were four roots; the man had work to do. When the chair finally released me, thoughts of passing out from my first wisdom tooth resurfaced. I moved slowly to make certain that I was okay. There were directions for medication, and a follow up appointment in addition to the crown that the referring dentist would have to do. Yes, there is more torture.
The prescription was filled immediately, and I went home. Lunch is not an option, and the folding of clothes seemed reasonable enough. My mother was MIA….again. There was no one to share my experience with. The schedule shall pick up later this evening as a performance and poetry show will keep me busy. A friend shall join me to enjoy the animate prose. This is not an experience that I would wish upon anybody.