Laughing gas? Yes, please.

I hate the dentist. I mean I really, really hate the dentist. I’ve been burned, and now I go nowhere near that fire they call a dental office. Maybe it all started at 5 years old, with a not-so-gentle Dr. Peterson, when he told me to sit back and shut-up because the patients in the waiting room would hear me crying…maybe it’s the not knowing what they’re doing in there, not that I’d wanna know…maybe it’s someone being in my “space” for that long… all I know is, it’s a nightmare to me. I am terrified.

So. oh, about 3 years ago, I was eating frozen cookie dough (well, it’s not really frozen, it’s soft enough to eat, but there were chocolate chips in it, of course) and I bit down on a frozen choc chip, and broke my biggest molar on the bottom left. Broke it. On chocolate. (dumbtard)

So, for about 3 years now, I’ve had excruciating pain off and on, and well at this point in time it’s probably taken over my entire jaw and they might just have to replace the whole darn thing. It’s hurting so badly (and it comes in waves…as I type this, I’m fairly able to *think*, but when it’s real bad, I can’t concentrate and I’m snappy at everyone around me; it’s the all-consuming kind of pain) that I am finally ready to go to the dentist. I think.

So tomorrow, I’ll call and make an appt.I have to keep reminding myself that everyone goes to the dentist. Everyday. All the time. No biggie.

What’s your big baby story? Do you fear something that is actually quite commonplace for most folks?