Meditation in the dentist chair
While my face goes numb
The only tool that I possess
To keep me from going on the run
I feel my legs stick to the plastic
My heart is racing, heavy tongue
The piped in pop song taunting me
Yes it’s Friday, and at the moment NOT in love
The nerves along my lips and chin
Equal parts creeping and vibrating
Hell! I might be biting off my cheek
Heart rate slowed, fear not abating
It’s hard to feel the breath beneath my nose
With my upper lip anesthetized
Footsteps behind, instruments aligned
Throw my head back, it’s drilling time
Details are much more crystallized
My bite too small they prop it up
Newly noticed sounds and aches and smells
Surprising comfort from a hand in glove
Now I’m sipping coffee through a straw
Trying not to drool, or chew my tongue
Home at last, my trigger passed
I did not escape, dissociate, and I am glad…
…that it is done
— April Resnick
The Dentist, by Sir John Lavery
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