Relative Secrets

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Went to the dentist today. I had an abcess last week, which made me seriously consider suicide, or at least some really nasty self-lancing of my gums. But the whole time, there was some serious anger right below the surface. See, I have a horrible fear of dentists. It's not a phobia, because a phobia is an irrational fear. This fear is real, and it's traumatic, and it was caused by a really evil bitch and a friend of hers.

When I was 12, we went to live w/ Dad and his wife for a while. His insurance didn't cover us (of course), and I had a couple of cavities, so instead of taking me to the good dentist in town that her kids went to, I went to another one --a close friend of hers, I found out later. So I was in the chair, and I felt pokes, and he got the drill going and I tried to tell him that I wasn't numb. That's when they got the restraints. My arms and legs were restrained to the chair. A band of something was strapped around my forehead so I couldn't move it, and my mouth was propped open with something like this: And he proceeded to dril and drill. And I screamed, gagged on my own spit, and was terrified more than I'd ever been. Finally, that part was over, and it was time to do the fillings. Now, I guess they used metal back then, and I guess the metal was pretty hot. He kept dropping it onto my tongue. Oh, by the way, no. There was no nitrous oxide being used.

After it was over, I could barely walk. I was shaking so hard, and I could hardly see through the tears that wouldn't stop. When I got to the waiting room, my stepmother grabbed me by the arm, dragged me out of there, and yelled at me all the way home for screaming and embarrassing her like that. And when we got home, I was severely beaten with a belt, from neck to knees, on my backside. I was told that I was NEVER to embarrass her like that again. I was also told that if I told my father what happened, I'd get the same treatment again. So I didn't tell.

For a week, my jaw throbbed, I had blisters on my tongue, and I could barely sit down, or lean back, or even sleep very well. But I figured, at least I got my teeth fixed, and prayed I'd get to go home to mom soon.

What I didn't know was that the dentist was not finished. I had another cavity. Sandy knew not to tell me she was taking me to the dentist. I was supposed to be going to my piano lesson. When I saw where we were going, I started to freak out. She pulled up to the back door of the place, and the dentist and some thug came out, dragged me into the office, strapped me down, and repeated the same thing again. And, yes, I screamed again. And yes, I got the fuck beat out of me again when I went home. And no, I never told my dad.

So, years later, in 2000, I started having problems with one of those teeth. I went to a dentist that had a big sign, in red letters that said "HIGH FEAR!!!" I figured that might be an understatement, but an abcessed tooth will make you overcome a fear, so I went. He wanted to do a root canal, but I didn't think I could handle that. So he did a temporary thing, so that I could see how well conscious sedation worked, and get my head wrapped around the idea that all dentists are not evil, and that there would be no stepmother waiting for me in the lobby. He did say that there is no way in hell any human should've been subjected to a drilling that was so deep (he could see how deep it was in the xray) without anesthesia, and he also said that that dentist did it wrong anyway. It was not an unpleasant experience, but I never went back.

Now I'm having problems the same tooth. I didn't sleep last night. I really hoped that she is dead now. I had a lot of really fucked up thoughts about her, and things I'd like to do to her, or to her kid while she watched. I was just seething, and afraid, and felt very vulnerable.

Anyhow, today, the dentist just xrayed it, said the tooth had to go (no root canal at this point), and referred me to an oral surgeon. I go tomorrow for a consultation. I figure I'll just get that tooth pulled, and all four wisdom teeth as well, since I will be completely unconscious. And I'll try not to cry tomorrow when I tell him why I'm so terrified of him. That didn't work today.

My dad still doesn't know. But if I ever told him? He wouldn't believe me. And maybe that pisses me off more than anything else.