Adrenaline is not my friend. I don’t search for it. And when it finds me accidentally, I usually tell it to shut up.
Check out those sweet shades they gave me so that I wouldn’t get toothdust in my eyes. In combination with all of that dental stuff coming out of my mouth, I sort of look bionic.
My mom sat nearby as the hygienist reclined the child-sized dental chair. I was whining and whimpering. Most of my friends were just starting to lose their baby teeth — surely I’d be next, right? Why did the dentist need to fix a cavity in a tooth that was going to fall out anyway?