That's a lie.
I actually had total, full-on, partial anxiety this morning.
I went to get my partials fitted to fill in the empty spots of all the molars I've had to have pulled.
I am too young for partials.
I am too poor for dental implants.
The very sweet, twelve year old dental technician came into the room with two tortuous looking metal devices.
"Let's just slide this framework in and see how they fit!" she said in a sweet voice.
I opened my mouth like she had volunteered to feed me chocolate pudding.
She snapped the metal apparatus on my teeth.
I started gagging.
"Take them out, take them out!" I kinda/sorta shouted in a kinda/sorta freaked out voice.
She quickly complied.
"Holy cats!" I panted.
She told me to take a deep breath and open up again.
"Not so fast...I have a few questions...CanthesegodownmythroatcanIchokeonthesearetheygonna
I stopped. Panting. Trying not to hyperventilate.
Yeah. I'm all kinds of dramatic at the dentist office when I am getting poked with metal and I feel I might choke to death.
The twelve year old dental technician was very kind.
She put her hand on my shoulder.
She showed me how the partials fit into my mouth.
She assured me it would be almost impossible to swallow them because I would choke and gag first.
Good to know!
We tried again.
I breathed through my nose.
She poked and prodded and then snapped the partial dentures in and out. Each time she messed around with a little wire bendy thingy.
Finally she was done bending wire. She snapped them into my mouth again and with a proud look on her face she enquired, "So! Does that feel better?"
Better? Better? Better than not having a mouthful of wire?
I think not.
We continued with the appointment with spray foam (bite impression) and more bending of metal. Snap in. Snap out. Snap in. Snap out.
"Next time you come back we'll have the teeth on the wire!" Miss Perky said, "Now, isn't that exciting?!"
I didn't answer her silly question.
I think not.
I'm a lot calmer now because I found someone to blame for my anxiety.
This whole hyperventilating, fear of metal thing is my parent's fault.
Growing up, we never had money for braces, so I am getting to experience 'metal mouth' late in life.
Now metal mouth.
I'm thinking it really wouldn't be that bad to be totally toothless.
I could still eat chocolate pudding if I was...
And that wouldn't be totally/completely horrible.