I might not be a mutated alien encased in an armor shell, Modern Philosophers, but there is a chance that I had to desperately fight to keep from unleashing my inner Dalek at the dentist earlier this week.
As longtime readers of this blog know, I do not like going to the dentist.
One my even say I once had a serious phobia about such appointments. I still don’t like going, but at least I’ve overcome my unsettling fear.
I’m not sure if it was my recent discovery of Doctor Who, my exhaustion from too much work and recurring insomnia, or my dentist’s declaring that I had my first cavity in ages, but I found myself extremely angry as I squirmed under the bright light in that uncomfortable chair.
One term filled my mind, and I had to bite my tongue not to scream it out at the top of my lungs as my dentist smiled down at me…
You are the tooth doctor! EXTERMINATE!!!
Yes, Modern Philosophers, I do tend to unravel at the speed of light when faced with an uncomfortable situation made even more so by a man’s having his hands in my mouth.
Ironically, the dental hygienist had just finished using the sonic tooth cleaner on my teeth, so there was a doctor and something akin to a sonic screwdriver.
All those tools they use to scrape and prod and poke reminded me of Dalek gadgetry.
My greatest fear has always been that one of those metal hooks would snap off between my teeth and be stuck there forever.
If that does happen, you might as well stick me inside of Dalek armor because I wouldn’t want anyone seeing me looking so hideous. I can just imagine the hurtful nicknames: Metal Mouth, Hookface Hodgens, Fish Boy. Need I continue?
The thing is, I never have cavities. I have amazing teeth, which is something of a hot commodity here in Maine, especially on the dating sites. I can tell potential dates that I have all my teeth, and they’re in great shape.
Now I have a flaw?
I think not, tooth doctor! EXTERMINATE!!!
Fret not, Modern Philosophers. I did not lose my cool. I couldn’t keep my mouth closed because, you know, the doctor had his hands in it, but I made sure my Dalek threats did not make it up my throat.
They remained buried deep beneath my metaphorical armor.
Instead, I used an old relaxation technique that helped me survive the dentist when a visit would send my stress levels through the roof and across the galaxy.
Only this time, there was a twist. When I first started going to the dentist again, I was dating The Girl Who Moved Away. Whenever I’d start to freak out in the dentist chair, I’d think of her. That gorgeous smile. The adorable dimple. It would always calm me down.
My favorite companion of The Doctor, and the type of woman who would not stand for any nonsense from a dentist.
I closed my eyes, thought of Amy Pond, and my inner Dalek did an emergency temporal shift that saved the tooth doctor from the threat of extermination.
I’m still not pleased about this whole cavity business, but things could be worse.
After all, my dentist could have been a Cyberman…
Has going to the doctor ever revealed a surprising part of your personality that you didn’t realize existed?