a fraidy cat, a wuss. I thought I'd gotten past this, at least to a point where I could function. But, apparently, I am still petrified of needles. Specifically needles going into things like my mouth. I had a dentist appointment today to fix the last of my many problems for the moment, and was feeling relieved to get it over with. I asked for the laughing gas, as usual, because it makes me not care that a very long and very sharp needle is going to be shoved into my mouth. As an afterthought, I mentioned I'm pregnant - which makes the laughing gas a no-go. Ack! "I can handle this," I thought. " I just won't look. It works when they take my blood, and soon it will all be over." I get reclined and ready to go, but fatally, tragically, I open my eyes at exactly the wrong moment. I see the long, pointed end of the needle rapidly descending towards me and completely freak out, shaking, crying, and repeating over and over "I can't do it." Luckily, I have an amazing dentist (who has been around many pregnant women before, he says) who quickly took the needle out of the room and handed me a few tissues so I could mop up my face. We discussed some options, and found a way to get the necessary work done without having to use a needle to numb me.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Just call me a chicken...
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