(Translation, for those who do not speak Dental Patient: "My gosh. What am I afraid of?")
The dentist has a friendly smile full of inspirational teeth. Even though her name is Dr. Carrie--just like that star of the Stephen King book and movie--she isn't the least bit scary.
But what she was going to do to me was. My rational brain knew she was shooting me full of anesthesia to prevent pain, yet the little animal inside of me was scared of pain anyway. The little animal wanted out of the chair.
And this, my friends, is what we call a touch of dentophobia.
I say it's only a touch of dentophobia because a real phobia is a serious thing, much more serious than my meager case of the willies.
A phobia is an intense, persistent fear of a specific object or situation. Often, the fear is so bad that the person who has it can't lead a normal life. In one instance I learned about as a college student, a woman with a bad case of agoraphobia developed a cyst that grew to weigh 303 pounds. Her fear of going out in public was so bad she let this cyst get to be the size of a linebacker. Amazingly, doctors were able to remove it successfully.
But enough of that. Why, if I knew Dr. Carrie was getting me good and numb, was I still afraid?