Yesterday I had one of my wisdom tooth pulled out. It was one of the worst experience I've ever had since childhood (well, excluding the appendectomy one).
I had known for years that one fine day this molar must be got rid of for good, and from the moment I noticed its inclination towards the other teeth, my fear over the extraction had been gradually increasing ever since. Call me chicken and I wouldn't retaliate. Yes I am, at least when it comes to odontology. Each time I stepped into dental clinics, I was brought back to that painful bloody experience in my childhood when my mom brought my bros and me to that damn dental clinic near our home where one of the two kind-looking female dentists took care of us. If her hands had been at least as gentle as her speech, I wouldn't have been left traumatised up until now. I could feel that she was madly rummaging in my mouth in search of some villainous bad teeth and tried her very best, and successfully, to pull them out in spite of their persistance to stay rooted in my gum.
In fact, the yesterday operation was noticeably less painful than any one I had had. However, I was totally rigid, tense and stressed in my position. Didn't move an inch. Embarrassed and uncomfortable as I was, I walked out of the clinic with a swollen cheek, pretending to be normal as people stared at me in the face. It wasn't about physical pain that worried me like when I was a child anymore, but a humiliation caused by the eyes of curiosity penetrating right into mine.
I couldn't help thinking about my swollen face and what people would think of it...especially when some good-looking guys came by. :D
I had known for years that one fine day this molar must be got rid of for good, and from the moment I noticed its inclination towards the other teeth, my fear over the extraction had been gradually increasing ever since. Call me chicken and I wouldn't retaliate. Yes I am, at least when it comes to odontology. Each time I stepped into dental clinics, I was brought back to that painful bloody experience in my childhood when my mom brought my bros and me to that damn dental clinic near our home where one of the two kind-looking female dentists took care of us. If her hands had been at least as gentle as her speech, I wouldn't have been left traumatised up until now. I could feel that she was madly rummaging in my mouth in search of some villainous bad teeth and tried her very best, and successfully, to pull them out in spite of their persistance to stay rooted in my gum.
In fact, the yesterday operation was noticeably less painful than any one I had had. However, I was totally rigid, tense and stressed in my position. Didn't move an inch. Embarrassed and uncomfortable as I was, I walked out of the clinic with a swollen cheek, pretending to be normal as people stared at me in the face. It wasn't about physical pain that worried me like when I was a child anymore, but a humiliation caused by the eyes of curiosity penetrating right into mine.
I couldn't help thinking about my swollen face and what people would think of it...especially when some good-looking guys came by. :D
No comments:
Post a Comment