I can empathise with this post on many levels. At least when I accidentally caught my son’s nethers in a zipper, I didn’t call in the neighbours. But I remember that awful thought that the only way out was back… Oh did he yell.
I broke my first tooth on a blackjack when I was seven and I’ve hated the dentist ever since. Creepy old men with big needles who like to inflict pain on children, that was my early experience. My most recent venture into the world of dentistry, was a relatively painless affair with a rather pleasant young lady who liked to hum as she worked. My God the world has changed. Women dentists, they’ll be driving buses next! Yeah yeah I’m joking of course so keep your powder dry. Really my experience just goes to show that one’s early experiences can taint you for life, for despite my last few fairly uneventful visits to the dentist, I still get a cold chill down my spine when I even think that I may need to sit in that chair.
It doesn’t apply to everything or indeed everybody, but fears and phobias are…
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