Dentist chair

Pre-chair:
1. I hope my breath doesn't smell like coffee.
2. Crap, did i get the googles out of my eyes this morning?!...whew, looks good.
3. Please don't let there be anything hanging out of my nose.
4. This music keeps transporting me back to prom.

In chair:
OK, she knows about the cracks in the teeth on that side, she'll be careful, I told her about my aversion to the iron hook, well the waterpic thing she's using isn't bad, WHOA except there, well this doesn't seem too bad except the music ain't getting any better, and yup, sure enough, they're actually playing the theme song from the ole prom now, geez i'm old, well maybe this won't be too bad if she just uses this thing, lord, people could write entire books about dentist chair anxiety, and I bet shrinks could study the mental process of how easy it is to neglect visits and cause yourself more pain, like how women don't remember all the pain of being pregnant, yeah that's probably a load too, but at least she's finishing up...oh hell, she IS going to use the iron hook, great, time to visualize and remove yourself mentally from the chair to distract yourself from how nails-on-a-blackboard the iron hook on your teeth makes you feel, i bet zen buddhists don't have trouble in the chair, see, can't wrap your mind around that scenario either, i could think of it as character building or something, having to go through this, but is there a way to separate character from ego to make it a zen experience, since zen is all about removing ego from the equation, sonofabitch that hook is sending my spine 'round the bend, and now she's commenting on how I need to get cleanings every 6 months to ensure the cleanings aren't this uncomfortable, yeah, no shit, sherlock, but after Dad died, it's like everything went on hold for a solid year and then took another year to thaw out, and now here we are with 2 potential crowns and how many cavities to deal with, crap, we could kill 2/3rds of my flexible spending account on my teeth alone, never mind that Husby has a mouthful of stubs rotting out of his mouth, dammit, I need a better job...finally, she's done, bringing the chair back up and wow, been holding a bit of tension in my whole body, huh, can feel it in arms, legs, neck, dang, I need to shake out and I've had to pee for a half hour...

Post-chair:
1. Where the hell's the money going to come from, I'm going to have to ignore the fillings...
2. Mental shopping list: new toothpaste, ACT
3. Man, I'm wired, wish I could run around the building a couple of times to burn this off...
4. Where the hell's the nearest Starbucks?