A Little Fixations, Fetishes and Phobias (from two years past)

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Tomorrow morn I get to go to a dentist again. The last visit I had was, what, two weeks ago, last week? Time flies. But in any case that was because a filling broke and I had to get it fixed. Tomorrow I'm hoping to get my front teeth cap fixed. And I have to confess that I do have a cavity as well, so they'll probably work on that. In any case it's a double time so they might have enough time to fix 'em both. But I don't mind going back another time either.

I like dentistry. Sitting on that comfortable chair with my head tilted back, opening my mouth gapingly wide until my jaws hurt. The anticipation, the excitement. Will they drill this time? Will it hurt? Will I mind the pain this time? I haven't asked for a local anesthesia for years. I haven't actually had the need to go to a dentist frequently. Never had a root canal operation. Don't even know if that is what it's called. Don't know what that entails, even if I'd know what the name of the operation would be. I'm still young. Plenty of time for that. I'm not a masochist. Not actually. I don't love the pain. I don't like it, but I don't hate it either. The thing about pain is that it makes you feel alive, doesn't it. The rush of adrenalin. Sweat soaking your clothes. I'm not afraid of regular dental operations. I'm not afraid of them drilling my teeth. It gives such an adrenaline spike, and I'm somewhat of an adrenaline junkie.

So yeah, being at the dentist is a ritual for me and I like it. It makes me feel alive. It's so invigorating, plus it's good for you, getting your teeth fixed if there's a problem. If liking dentistry makes me a masochist, then why not. Don't mind that, at least I'm not wearing a gimp mask, no offence to those who like that sort of thing. Don't mind if someone likes a little S&M, but I'm not that much into that. I'm not the first person to submit myself into anything. I bow to no masters or mistresses. You can't even whip common sense into me. I'm not looking for getting punished. My will is what drives me and if someone'd succeed breaking it, I'd be useless. My heart's a different matter, but even with a broken heart I can live on, it'll heal eventually. But my heart won't break that easily either, it's not made of glass.

What I am afraid of however is losing my teeth. How'd that Edgar Allan Poe story go? The one with teeth. And Berenice? The nightmares that wake me up in the night, the worst ones are those in which my teeth crumble in my mouth, fall to pieces, and I wake up, gasping for air, checking if my teeth are still where they should be and not on my pillow in crumbles in a puddle of my saliva. The one thing I dread more than anything. So I've been a good boy and brushed my teeth with diligence. Especially all of my wisdom teeth, so that they'd never have to pull them off. If I ever have to get rid of them, local anesthesia won't do. No. Nitrous oxide? I'd still be conscious. It's not the pain I'm afraid of, but pulling the teeth in the first place and the possibility of them having to crush the teeth before they can pull them out. It'd be a bloody nightmare come true. So I'll wash my teeth. I'll floss. I'll do anything. Anything not to get them pulled out. Please. Anything but that.