And Lead Us Not Into Dental Damnation…

It’s Holy Thursday, Modern Philosophers, and I need your prayers.

Once again, I have foolishly made myself an appointment with the dentist, and I am up early dealing with the anxiety of this pending visit to The Chair.

I’m actually writing this post from bed because I’m really too exhausted to get up yet, but my phobia has taken control of my body and won’t allow me to sleep.

When I made this appointment six months ago, still woozy from fear from that morning’s torture session, I had no idea I’d be returning on Holy Thursday.

At least I didn’t make the appointment for yesterday.  April Fools’ Day does not seem like a great day to go to the dentist.

Again, I feel like I am making a mockery of the toga with this irrational fear of the dentist, but my Deep Thoughts are filled with frightening images of what could happen to me.

Sure, my dentist is the nicest guy in the world, but don’t they always say that about the neighbor who ends up having a dozen bodies stuffed in freezers in his basement?

So do you think you could maybe put your hands together in prayer and ask Zeus, or whatever higher power you believe in, to watch over me while strangers have their fingers and various dental tools in my mouth?

That would really mean a lot to me.

And if you’re not the type to pray, perhaps you could just send some happy, positive, non-painful thoughts in my general direction?

Nothing bad can happen to a nice Catholic boy on Holy Thursday, right?

I guess I’d better get out of bed now and prepare to face the music.  Which gives me a great idea.  I’ll bring my ear buds with me and listen to Pandora while the dentist does his thing.

That might actually help.

Just as long as Pandora doesn’t play any damn Oasis again.  But that’s an entirely different phobia…