I am absolutely terrified of the Dentist. I’m terrified of most medical procedures actually, with the exception of things that I know intimately, like having food poisoning or a cold. Anything else sends me into full-blown panic cycles where I convince myself not only that it is highly likely I will die, but in fact that it is really the only possible outcome, and that it will be hideously, unbearably painful.
So when I cracked a filling just under two weeks ago, my most recent cycle of horror began in earnest.
black window-pane check blazer – Euromerican tailors, Hong Kong
white Business shirt with rich navy stripes – T.M. Lewin, Boyfriend’s
navy and maroon checked polyester necktie – Chinatown, Sydney
gold-tone Tie-bar and Cufflinks – gifted by my other-mother
black leather Belt with stitching detail – found wardrobe item
black resin-coated straight-leg Jeans – G-Star Raw
black leather Chelsea Boots – Country Road
As it turns out, it was only a matter of drilling out the old filling and replacing it with a new one. Overall it was quick, painless and nothing like the blood-splattered vision of horror I had been obsessing over for two weeks. I demanded a reward for actually going and getting it seen to, so afterwards the Boyfriend and I had Japanese for dinner. Thankfully, I can now put the horror of Dentistry behind me for another 6-months, when I’m scheduled for a check up.