[joily ONE]

why I hate the dentist
I think I was about 7 or 8 at the time. My dentist was a nice guy, or at least he had always seemed that way to me. I was a little kid and simple cleanings were all I had ever had to go through. The worst part of a regular cleaning was the flouride trays. Then it happened. I got a cavity.
I was so sad when the dentist told me I had a cavity. My first cavity. Not one of the prouder milestones in ones life. The appointment was set and I read a book in the waiting room about cavities and how they were filled. The kid in the book was smiling, so I thought gosh this won't be bad at all!
I was so wrong.
I was lead to the chair and sat down. The assistant asked me what color for for the nose piece on the "laughing gas" I wanted. I chose bright pink.
She hooked everything up and walked away to let the gas take effect. Let me tell you I didn't tolerate it well. I felt nauseated. I wanted to throw up but couldn't. My world was a daze, and I certainly wasn't laughing. The room was spinning around me and the Kermit the Frog hanging on the dental light above me was mocking me with his fuzzy grin.
I saw the dentist approach me and in his hand was a needle. A needle I thought? For my mouth? This wasn't in the book?! I was scared. I was a little kid and I was scared so reflexively I threw up my hands and screamed no.
Unbeknowst to me at the time I had knocked the dentists glasses right off his face which sent them down to the floor knocking out one of the lenses and slightly bending the frame. He was furious. I was still petrified. First the needle coming at me and then I had accidentally broken my dentist's glasses.
My dentist screamed at me. My older sister was two chairs down from me and raised up from her chair and looked at me while I cried. I apologized. I kept choking out "I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean to!" The effects of the gas still wearing off slowly. Apparently this wasn't good enough. At this point I had scrambled off the chair and was cowering near the little sinks where you spit out your flouride. The dentist marched over and grabbed me by the arms and threw back into the chair. He grabbed my wrists and held me down. Throwing all his weight into it. I screamed. It hurt so badly. All I kept saying was I was sorry I was sorry. His assistant returned with a new needle and one of those little tent things to keep your mouth open. They snapped it into my mouth, pinching my gums in the process. I could taste blood. The dentist, still restraining me jammed the needle into my gum. I screamed again. "Shut up" he said fiercely. "It's not nice to break people's things" My mouth went numb from the shot. The nurse snapped the gas back on my nose and they went about the procedure.
Tears rolled continually down my cheeks and all I was met with was a "stop crying" "you're not a baby"
To this day I am still petrified of the dentist. My mother never believed that story. Well, she believed his glasses were broken, but she never believed that he held me down the way he did. From that day forward I was terrified of the dentist. I never wanted him near me again yet I was forced to see him until he thankfully retired and I was able to get a new dentist.