Next, I asked for the gas, and because I felt like a big baby for needing it, had to explain how I saw Dr. M working on the guy through the half-open door and was in a semi-state of panic. Of course, K knew I was going to need gas...cause seriously...when have I not needed it? She is so good at her job. She strapped the pig nose (that's what my kids call it) on me and a few deep breaths later I was feeling much more calm.
I was trying to honor my self imposed no talking rule, even though I had already broken it, so I laid back and closed my eyes. Why is it that when you are in a prone position you automatically close your eyes? I mean, think about it. Dentist, sex, gynecologist, hair stylist...eyes closed. OK, I don't ALWAYS close my eyes during sex, but it does happen. I was trying to solve this prone position/eyes closed dilemma in my mind when I was rudely interrupted to get a shot.
Shot?...no big deal, my nitrous infused mind told me. Well, my mind is a lying bitch because by the time the shot had been administered, I was gripping the arms of the chair like I was riding a fucking roller coaster, my toes were curled inside my boots (so glad I cut my toenails the other day or I would have had a bleeding situation), and I was about to cry. No amount of deep breaths was taking away the panic of the needle in my mouth and that shit hurt. At one point in time, it felt like the needle had left my gums and punctured my cheek. I got a mental picture of the needle sticking out the side of my cheek while the hygienist (not K...someone I had never met before) looked around in panic...and then it was over. Thank God!
Being the polite person I am, I thanked the evil needle wielding bitch who had just pumped me full of pain.
"Was that OK?", she asked.
"Oh yeah, you did a great job. No pain at all." I lied. Theoretically, since I had never met this new girl, I had never embarrassed myself in front of her and I needed to make a good impression. At this point in our relationship, she thought I was normal.