I'm not sure if I have ever mentioned my hatred of dentists here before. I have nothing against individual dentists, obviously, but the profession in general drives me crazy. The day Denticare exists here in Australia I will be overjoyed.
Just before Dot was born I chipped off my front tooth on a Butter Menthol. Yes, I was crunching it. Judge not etc etc. Without a front tooth I look like a caricature of a bogan, so I swore to find a new dentist, the kind of practice where you see the same person everytime. A bit of investigating and one was procured close by.
Today I had three fillings done. (Yes, I needed three fillings. I actually need another 17 surfaces done, capping, a pin and my two front teeth replaced. Feel better about your teeth yet?) My dentist noticed that when he started drilling I dig my fingernails into the back of my hand. After he laughed and told me to relax he explained how he sometimes uses hypnotherapy on very nervous patients. I laughed myself and told him that if I had my knitting with me I wouldn't be quite so bad.
Guess who's allowed to take her knitting along next time she goes to the dentist?