I just viewed my pending comment page and noticed that I have four spam comments that have nothing at all to do with the posts with which they were left. I guess if they were relevant, then they would not be spam.
However, I am avoiding the subject. I have a toothache. I went to the doctor over the weekend and was told that I needed to see a dentist and get a tooth pulled. Oy gevalt…
You see, dear people, your beloved Xavier is afraid of dentists. Terribly afraid. I have had a problem with this tooth for two years now, and it always ends the same. I get the ache, I finally get a sedative and go to the dentist, he gives me a temporary fix until I go and see an oral surgeon, and I feel better and ignore the surgeon. This has gone on for years.
I understand that I really should go and see the dentist and should have long ago. Yet, the nagging fear of having my tooth stolen and then facing oral rape at the hands of a fiend in a white lab coat with scary tools is what keeps me from going.
This time, this time, this time I am going to the dentist. My appointment is for ten forty-five tomorrow morning. I am terrified.
Perhaps I would not be as phobic had the doctor I saw last weekend had not made the following comment to me:
“If I had a tooth-grabby thing, then I would pull it out myself.”
Really? Tooth-grabby thing?! Where did this fellow get his medical degree? From an online medical school hosted in the Cayman Islands? Who knows. I realize the good doctor was not a dentist, but surely he could have come up with something other than tooth-grabby thing.
Okay, I am starting to get a headache and my pulse has started racing from these dental thoughts. If I make it through the ordeal tomorrow, I shall tell you how it went.