It’s time for some more personal musing. 🙂
I just got back from a pretty intense dentist visit, and am exhausted and a little sore all over. LOL, lying in a chair with your mouth stretched wide open for over three hours will do that to a person. (Five cavities in my upper left side 😦 )
So here are my thoughts, as jumbled as they might sound:
< I love nitrous oxide. (I think that’s what they call the “happy gas” they give you). At one point, I made the mistake of telling them how extra “floaty” I was, and that it might be a bit much. She turned it down 5%. Boo. Later, when I wasn’t as floaty, she turned it back up 2.5%.
Man, that stuff made me feel great. I was so relaxed and sleepy. Kind of like when you are having the most wonderful, deep sleep and dream, and you can’t wake up. You feel heavy and free from everything—it was probably a good thing she turned it down, LOL.
< I don’t hate my dentist, but I do hate being there. The loud noises scare me; the scraping, and polishing sets my nerves on edge; the pushing and prodding and shots, etc… hurt or make me uncomfortable; it’s like you don’t have any control—and for a type A personality specially, it’s difficult. The whole thing over-stimulates me.
< I LOVE my dentist! She is the kindest, most compassionate, sweetest lady, and she is quite nurturing, but not in a talk down you sort of way. That’s a gift right there. Her tone and demeanor when I would get upset, made me feel like not only did she care about my comfort, but that she also wanted me to be able to overcome on my own if possible. No talking down, and “sweetie” stuff. (Everyone knows how much I hate that). Yet, I still did get the feeling energetically that she was nurturing me through the whole process. It was an interesting dynamic to be able to let go with someone like that—especially another woman.
< Which leads me to the whole D/s sort of dynamic. Bear with me. I might still be loopy. 😉 She was the subject matter expert/ the professional. I gave her my trust and submitted to her work. And she allowed me to do so with grace and respect. I cried once toward the beginning, and she talked so soothing to me, and made sure I understood everything that was happening. It gave me a sense of control in a much uncontrolled environment.
She didn’t force me to use the big bite block thing (a piece of hard material placed in between my teeth on the opposite side), to give me a chance to stop holding my mouth open myself. I tried it for about twenty seconds before gagging and retching, and telling her I was sorry, but I couldn’t do it. (I have a huge gag reflex). She was fine with that. We just continued, and I made myself be a good girl and open oh so wide. She was so pleased with me, and kept telling me how great I was doing.
Like I said, it was a very different dynamic.
I did so well through most of it. Even past all the scary sounds, and digging and scraping and pushing and pulling. I even asked to try the bite block again when my mouth finally got too exhausted.
She reminded me that I was in control of this whole thing. When I wanted it out, I could take it out. If I needed swishing or suction, let them know. I was in control. It amazed me to think of it that way, and freed me so much so I could let go and try to relax through the rest of it.
It was over three hours of work, including a bathroom break (I had to take off the nitrous for that though 😦 ). When it got too loud (like that doggone polisher!) I cranked my Ella Enchanted soundtrack on my daughter’s IPOD and breathed in and out through my nose. I really was such a good girl. 😉
Then something happened. I literally broke down in the middle of a final tooth. My heart started racing, my gag reflex went berserk, I couldn’t breathe, I felt heavy, and I started crying. Hard. It was like a panic attack of the worst kind. And it came out of nowhere. I was so afraid I was going to choke to death on that thing in my mouth. I signaled and grunted and wept. I had just enough control in me though to not start flailing everywhere and yanking stuff out of my mouth. Another thirty seconds, I probably would have.
She calmly and quickly got everything out, and turned off, and held one hand, while the assistant gave me her arm (which I hugged to my chest tighter than my husband on our wedding night) then she just talked. Calm, sweet, kind words about how good I was doing, and how close to being done I was. Less than five minutes, LOL.
She affirmed that this was really hard, and I had been doing so well holding everything together, even being scared for such a very long time. And she reminded me again how great I was doing.
I laughed (a big snotty laugh, of course, with dribble running down my side of my cheek), kind of skeptical that I was indeed doing a good job. But hey, if she said so, then I believed her.
I started breathing in through my nose, closed my eyes and relaxed. She told me how great it was that I had gotten myself calmed down without any help, and that’s what I needed.
With only a few more tears, the whole thing was finished.
Ibuprofen taken, yucky oxygen administered (I would not have minded taking a nice rest with the blanket and mask still in place), and another huge bout of praise over how well I had done.
< This whole visit makes me think about dominance and submission. What I would look for in a dom. What I would expect from him, and what he could expect from me in return. If I had to choose a Dom, it would be someone like my dentist.
I won’t ever say I love going to get dental work one. But I do love my dentist.
And she has given me a whole new idea for a story.
Don’t forget to floss 😉