I must admit that, after
all these visits to the dentist I’ve been having - the many bad, the mostly
ugly and, finally, blossoming from the whole steaming pile, the one good one
who appears to know what he’s doing (a quality sadly missing in the dental profession)
- I have rather lost my fear of dentists.
Not sure exactly why as
the pain is pretty damn HUGE! And the previous lot really did stuff up in ways
that verged on malpractice, but I think that, after you’ve had a raw nerve or
two drilled on, you really can’t get more painful than that and you know that
at least, in the end, it will lead to finally being comfortable! (Biting, I
remember that, it was fun…)
I’m like one of those
women who has had ten kids. First two o three probably hurt a bugger to pop
out, but after that you sort of get into the swing of things. The advantage of
all those rugrats is at least one will support you in your old age and, in my
case, the advantage of going to the dentist over and over is that I might
actually have teeth in my old age!
Actually I think this is
how they get ordinary folk to like really bad music. It gets played over and
over and over, on popular radio stations, and then plonked on tv with music
videos where scantily clad women, with rear-ends in the XXL division, and
identical dance routines, gyrate about. The song is everywhere! And eventually
you decide, hey, I like this song, even if only because you don’t want to have
to change the radio station or admit to your trendy friends you find it
rubbish.
It’s like common sense
and your will to live comfortably go at war and you finally give in to just
stop the maddening cognitive dissonance*.
Of course I could be
completely wrong, but it sounds very plausible! (Hopefully it’s not like those
militant vegan or crazed religious videos that sound almost plausible until you
sit and really listen and discover they’re all hogwash and wild guesses, thinly
disguised as proof found by top officials from the University of Narnia.)
I’ve also come to rather
like my latest dentist. While this might seem a bit like Stockholm syndrome**,
it’s really more just that, FINALLY, sweet god of Muppets, I’ve got someone who
can do the job and do it right!
Mind it does cost rather
a lot, but at least it stops me buying unnecessary extras right?
Or necessary items either
actually *shakes wallet and a moth and half a coffee bean fall out*
Not sure I like that…
*cognitive dissonance is
when two different beliefs in our head that just don’t match up. Sort of
like a dieter trying to tell themselves that, that SWEET, CHOCOLATEY, HOT
muffin is bad, bad, bad for them!
** named after a hostage situation in
stockholm that lasted for ages, where the hostages took a shine to their
captors and even fought for them. (I’d have agreed with my hostage takers as
well, but mostly because I’d hope that if they started spraying bullets it
would be at the naggers who complained too much)
