Paying for Pain

As I sat in the dentist's chair and tried to think of England this morning I think I might have had an epiphany. No, it wasn't the gas. It really wasn't. In fact that is what my epiphany was all about. Not having the gas.

The dentist wouldn't let me have the gas. He said doing a filling in a top tooth makes it too awkward to have the gas tube in the patient's mouth. So I basically had to suck it up and be brave. "You have a baby don't you?" Ummm yeah, so? "So you've been through childbirth you can handle a filling!"

Well, see that's just the thing Dr Chipper Pooface. I have been through childbirth and despite what people say I have not forgotten the pain, in fact I am remembering that pain right now and I think I'd like to take that dental drill and ram it up your chirpy cakehole.

I've found, as I get older I have become more and more resistant to 'being a big brave girl'. The way I see it, life is short why spend time and money on things that hurt? Dammit I wanted the gas this morning.

The twitty nurse who kept calling me Karen and bumping those big ugly sunglasses into my eye said the cost of the gas was double the cost of the filling. I didn't care, I wanted the gas. I did my very best adult pout but it had no impact. Not sure what angered me more at that point- that I couldn't have what I wanted or that my once persuasive pout had become nothing but a tired facial expression on a tired adult face.

A few weeks ago I was scheduled to have minor surgery on my eye under local anaesthetic but I chickened out and cancelled the surgery because the surgeon thought it would be a lot easier to avoid a general anaesthetic. Giving the probing receptionist a half-hearted rambling excuse I cancelled my appointment the day before and then I ended the conversation with- gosh I'm so sorry my baby is crying I really must hang up now.

Thing is, I have had plenty of operations and medical procedures as a child and as an adult and it wasn't until I gave birth to my daughter that I really became a sook about pain. I guess today I just figured, life is short, you can't get moments back so who would rather sit in the dentist's chair in agony having injections into their gums when they could be sitting there high on the happy gas dreaming about marshmallows and pony skin hobo bags?

Bravery is overrated I think. Are you brave? Have you become braver as you've become older or are you like me? A great big giant sook now?