The Check Up

I’ve just been to the dentist for my check up like I should.
I’m happy to report that so far everything seems good.
For me this is fantastic as I really hate to go,
even for a check up as most dentophobes will know.
My stomach churns just at the thought of walking through the door,
I’m such a wuss, can’t think of anything that I hate more.
As I sit in the chair and anxiously look at the ceiling,
trying my best to smile and not let them see how I’m feeling.
I lie back and I close my eyes, to shield them from the light,
my heart races, I grip the chair, my knuckles turning white.
Two faces loom above me, so close, they seem magnified,
and then come the immortal words, “can you please open wide”
Gloved fingers and a tooth pick probe each tooth inside my mouth,
I move my tongue obligingly from East to West and South.
So far so good, I’m thinking, then, my face starts to turn pale,
as I realise it’s time to start the polish and scale.
In come the spray and sucker and the sonic picking tool,
tears prick the corner of my eyes and I feel like a fool.
I’m really hypersensitive and prone to palpitations,
as my mouth and teeth are subject to a weird range of sensations.
Then the sonic cleaner sends a high pitched noise right to my ears,
the dentist reassures me, does his best to calm my fears.
I screw my eyes, up nod and grunt and breathe for all I’m worth.
Thank God it’s not a filling, I would much rather give birth.
My dentist is legend, he is patient, gentle, kind,
and always understanding of my phobic state of mind.
When he says “nothing’s needed” I’m awash with disbelief,
his smile’s as broad as mine, as we both heave sighs of relief.
I hop and skip out of the door as it’s a whole half year,
before I brace myself again, to face my biggest fear.

This entry was posted in Poems.

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