I am healing my teeth.
My whole life I have worried about them. The fear came into my dreams. I dreamed they were loose and fell into my hands, one by one. I dreamed they were porcupine quills. I kept my mouth closed, turned away from the mirror. The dentist’s office was a virtual torture chamber. I broke out in a cold sweat, my blood pressure shot up. Once a dentist refused to pull a tooth until I had brought the levels down. Did he think I was going to have a heart attack? It made them nervous. The mere touch of their cold metal tools sent an electrical charge through me. Give me more anesthesia, more laughing gas, or put me out… Read more