Oh, dear...

I spent some quality time with the... d.e.n.t.i.s.t. today. For me, it's a special kind of torture and no amount of talking to myself would lower the anxiety levels.

It took four injections of... stuff... and there was still a sting when he drilled (why can't someone invent a drill that doesn't whine like that!).

He's a great dentist; you get cool sunglasses to wear and there's an LCD television screen stuck to the ceiling... ah, he's also very professional, compassionate and focused on the task.

There was a time when I thought: I can't do this. Stop... Please? But, of course, it had to be done.

Me, I can appreciate a good slap of irony. Mr Bean episodes were playing in a loop and yes, you guessed it: the 'Mr Bean visits the dentist' episode played.

Do you know how hard it is not to laugh with a mouth full of fingers and instruments? It's actually one of the few episodes I really like.

Just shows that while fate is torturing you, there'll be something to chuckle at. Works in books, too. I believe Joss Whedon has said that if you're going to dump your characters into a desperate situation, throw in some humour to ease the stress.

It works - however temporarily. The rest of the treatment didn't seem like such a burden. A couple of hours later, and the skin on my face still feels as if to slide off; then it will ache something chronic. Ever tried to hold your mouth open for an hour and a half?

Well, he recommended a glass of vino or two, so, being the good patient that I am, I can't go against his recommendations, now can I? If nothing else, it will give me Dutch courage to turn up again on Thursday...