The Pony is suffering from hoof and mouth disease. For the first time ever, The Pony has a cavity. TWO! Never having gone under the needle, The Pony is shaking in his horseshoes. He would like nothing better than to hoof it over the horizon and live out his days with the wind whistling through his chompers.
While The Pony is being drilled, I sit cooling my heels and every other body part in the waiting room. I swear. A patient with a swollen jaw does not need to apply ice while in this venue. The only sign of warmth is a space heater. No vents. It's like caveman dentistry.
The Pony is apprehensive about the pain. Anxious about the numbness and how long it will last. I feel his anxiety. I can't bear to go to the dentist. I need nitrous oxide. I need the kid dentist. I have an irrational fear. Not of pain or numbness...of being trapped. Tipped nearly upside down. Hands in my mouth. I can't stand the thought of not being able to get up and leave if I get the notion. I feel like I can't breathe.
My mom and my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel used to frequent the same dentist. Not The Pony's. Arch Nemesis went to him, too. Maybe they all still go. I call that guy The Butcher. Mom's face is bruised for a week after every appointment. That is not normal. She also has a partial plate that makes her talk like she has a speech impediment. That can't be right. The Butcher must be in cahoots with those Optical Delusion folks. My dental fears were far from assuaged when Arch told me last week, "Hey, tell your mom that one time, our dentist dropped a crown down my throat. I had to barf it back up!"
Yeah. Did nothing for my dentophobia.