The Dentist

Email by John G.

I believe the year was around 1982. I had a dentist appointment and had to have something done that required anesthetic. I typically used general anesthetic from the time I was a kid because the needle hurt too much. So, although I was no longer a kid, it was assumed by the dentist that I still preferred the gas. He put the mask on and told me to count backward from 100. The smell of the gas permeated my olfactory senses and before I knew it I was unconscious. The next thing I remember, I could see and hear my mother telling me to wake up; “Wake up John. John, wake up. John. John. Wake up.” She had a sense of urgency in her voice. As I opened my eyes I saw the dentist and his assistant standing over me, a look of panic on their faces. They were speaking loudly; “John, wake up! John! John! Are you alright?” It’s my belief that something terrible almost happened in that dentist’s chair. You see, my mother had passed away a couple years earlier and I think this was her way of telling me it wasn’t my time to go just yet.

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