You don't think of them drilling, you don't think of the chips flying all over your face, you don't think of the icky smells, you don't think of the light in your eyes. You don't listen to the dentist ask for this tool or that one, or say to his assistant, "hold her tongue out of the way." You don't poke your tongue (well, if you could feel it, you sure wouldn't) in the tooth they are working on, and you don't wring your hands.
You go someplace else.
I designed a quilt in my head.
I was so far away that more than once the dentist had to repeat his instructions to me to do something, because I wasn't listening.
