As I've written before, I'm terrified of going to the dentist. I love my dentist, but that doesn't stop me from being scared to go. Two weeks ago I had an appointment to have my teeth cleaned and a permanent crown put on, but I had to cancel because B had a meeting at the same time and couldn't be here with the kids. I refuse to hire a sitter so that I can go to the dentist. Somehow it just seems like adding insult to injury.
I never rescheduled the cancelled appointment, and I haven't answered the phone when the dentist's assistant called to talk to me about it. That's how phobic I am. B has been hounding me to make another appointment, but I've ignored him.
Last night B started asking about today's schedule and what I had to do. When I told him that it is my week to drive carpool for the first graders, he offered to pick them up for me. I should have suspected something, but instead I filled him in on the proper procedure.
This morning, B came out and announced that he had talked to our dentist and had arranged it so that I was taking his appointment, which is scheduled for this afternoon. Now I have to go to the dentist. B's rationale was that if he took care of the scheduling AND didn't tell me about it until the day of, I couldn't get quite as worked up about it.
I'm still pretty stressed about it, to the point that I'm considering taking a speck of Xanax prior to my appointment. I'm just not sure I'll be able to drive myself home afterwards. And I can't decide whether I'm angry at B for doing this to me. One the one hand, it will be a relief to have the appointment taken care of, but on the other, he's kind of treating me like I do Ella before her annual check-ups. I don't like being treated like a child.
I think B's answer would be that since I'm acting like a child about this he had no other option.
In the meantime, I'm sitting here dreading the appointment and thinking about all the things she's sure to find wrong in my mouth. Sigh.
3 comments:
An act of love. Your phobia wills you to believe otherwise.
Next time, imagine yourself with British teeth and thank your lucky stars that you only have to go to the dentist as seldom as you do.
I wish someone would make all my appointments for me. I swear I'd go to them. I swear. It's the PHONE that I'm phobic of.
My husband is also phobic - I can't even say the D word around him.
So of course I do. heh heh heh...
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