Thursday October 8th, 2009

The exercise:

The starter today: fillings.

Mine:

I'm getting fillings replaced this afternoon, so you'll have to forgive me - I'm not feeling particularly creative at the moment. Mostly it's just fear, with a side of terror, and a dash of anxiety.

Feel free to share any of your dental fears, horror stories, fiction, what have you, and I'll be sure to check them out. After I get home from the dentist.

Update edit: It wasn't that bad. Aside from a brief bit of panic during the freezing portion of the festivities, it was really quite uninteresting.

Coulda done without a numb left half of my tongue for four hours though.

5 Comments:

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

A bit of commentary, a bit of fiction. How 'bout that? =D
- - - - -
I seem to have inheritated most of my traits from my father. For better or for worse, that also means I've inherited his teeth. His groovy teeth. Not hippy-70s groovy, either. Otherwise I'd have no reason to complain.
Anyway, given that fact and naturally sticky saliva (I apologize for any spasms due to TMI, but it's true) makes me a prime target for cativites. Nothing huge, mind you, just enough to frequent my mouth enough to be a nusiance.

Fortunately, we've recognized this fact, and I go to the dentist four times a year instead of the usual two, just so we can catch anything early. Dental work's just a fact of life for me. An irksome one, but I always figure it could be worse.
- - - - -
Marcos sat, trying to keep the countenence of a statue. These sorts of thing weren't supposed to phase him, he thought. They weren't supposed to affect him.
And yet he couldn't keep that whining buzz out of his mind.
His overactive imagination, usually very much appreciated by him, drifted into dark, twisted recesses of his mind, occasionally conjuring a tortured shriek or some other satanic noise from the godforsaken bowels of imagination not meant for the light of day.
So when the dental assistant called his name, Marcos couldn't help but jump a little, and hear the summons as a bit darker than was probably reality.
- - - - -
I apologize for any convoluted sentences in that last bit. Coherency Department was a bit tied up...

And, what was that? Name similarities? Why, that's absolutely ludicrous!

Well, maybe there's a slight possibility of similarities... (;

Marc said...

Four times a year? Gooood gravy.

My issues stem more from a... very long interval between visits. I'm probably lucky to have so few problems, to be honest.

And that could have easily been an accurate description of me in the waiting room, only I just distracted the hell out of myself so the imagination didn't really kick in until I sat down in the chair.

Or, as I was calling it, The Chair.

Greg said...

Well done for getting through the dentist! Replacement fillings aren't too bad :)

Fillings

Mrs. Gant's large floury hands pressed the rolling pin firmly and smoothly across the pastry, spinning it through a quarter-turn after each stroke until she had a neat circle to join the other five. Then she deftly and gently placed the three larger circles over the pie dishes and used her knuckles to press them down, lining the cheerfully-coloured ceramic dishes ready for filling. The other three circles, already sliced across to let steam out, waited to do their service as lids.

The first pie was chicken, and Mrs. Gant had a pot of fragrant, herb and apple scented chicken already cooked and waiting. She spooned out tender chunks of chicken and mushrooms, and thin batons of cooked carrot, then poured over a rich sauce of cheese and cider enriched cream. A little steam escaped, and for a moment the kitchen smelled like a French orchard in autumn.
The second pie was also chicken, using up the sauce, leaving the third pie with no filling.
Mrs. Gant wiped her hands on the kitchen towel tucked into her apron pocket and sighed. She slid open a slim, concealed drawer above the cutlery drawer, and removed the With a heavy heart and equally heavy tread she crossed the kitchen to the scullery where the teddy-bears were kept, caged live in the cold. The pie would have a rare and precious filling, but she couldn't help feeling like a murderess every time she made one.

Greg said...

damn, a sentence half disappeared. "and removed the With a heavy" should read "and removed the Brinchev Kris where it nestled in its velvet bed. With a heavy"

Sorry!

Marc said...

Aye, replacements weren't bad at all. I'll get to experience new ones in a week and a half, I suppose that'll be the true test.

... and now I'm hungry for pie. Not necessarily teddy bear pie though.