Personal note; phobias and whining and swearing... Many thanks to all of you who've sent good wishes in response to my whining and swearing yesterday about Things Dental. And I agree -- intellectually -- with those of you who've told me that the worst part of getting crowns is what they cost. You're quite right, and I'm ashamed of myself for complaining.... Here I am, a person with decent dental insurance, blessed with the world's best and kindest dentist, and I'm whining and swearing. Tsk.
I have exactly three phobias. Cattle, as you know. Being physically restrained -- which comes up so rarely in my life that I'd forgotten about it until I read that essay by Elyn R. Saks titled "Freedom of Motion," at
http://tinyurl.com/2ravgw . And dentists. I know the reason for the cattle and dentist phobias: being pitched over a fence by a longhorn steer when I was not quite four years old; and having a dentist who used no pain-relief mechanisms of any kind while filling cavities and who slapped me when I screamed, way back in the 1940s. I have no idea what may have set off the phobia about being restrained; whatever it was, I don't remember it. Maybe I also owe that to the 1940s dentist, come to think of it, since I know I had to be literally dragged to his office by force.
I have always hoped I'd outgrow the cattle and dentist phobias. Because when I was a child I was scared of a much longer list of things, and I did outgrow almost all of those fears. And I'm certainly
better about The Dental Experience, as long as it's an experience with my own dentist, who is infinitely patient with my nonsense. I used to start shaking when I had to talk on the phone with a dentist's
receptionist; I don't do that any more. I still lose at least two pounds every time I go to have my teeth cleaned, however, so I'm not ready to do any bragging yet.
I am aware that I could just refuse to have the crowns on my teeth done. I told my dentist yesterday that at 71 I couldn't help wondering how much longer I was going to need those three teeth that are on the verge of breaking any second now; and he reminded me that my grandmother lived to be 96, but said that the decision was of course up to me. And because I do understand that all the alternative things that will happen if I
don't get the crowns done are far worse and would be far more expensive, I will call his office today and make an appointment.
I can't conveniently have the crowns done until after the two promotional dates for
Twenty-One Novel Poems on September 8th and 22nd, and will be hoping that none of the three teeth give way until I've gotten past the 22nd. And then I'll try to refrain from whining and swearing.