I’m not scared of the dentist but after this last visit I’m not too thrilled about seeing one again.   It was an endodontic specialist who charged me $3440 to fix one tooth and took pleasure (I’m sure) in filling my mouth with stitches as he cut into my jaw bone to remove an infected cyst.  At first all went well I got to relax and lie down with big over sized glasses on… quite fashionable these days. The root canal was done then things got serious, the white cloth on my chest was removed and a more clinical blue cloth took its place.  Another assistant entered with BIG needles and a tray of torture devices just for me.  The next thing I knew I was being sliced open from the inside of my mouth with three sets of eyes on me.  I decided it was best if I just calmed myself down by slowly counting (inside my head of course) 1… 2…3… 4…5.  I stopped at 382.  It’s surprising how the ability to count departs when the crunching of your own bone can be heard.  I turned my thoughts to the bus I was going to catch home after this.  If I could just get to the bus this would all be over.  Well after being prodded and poked, sliced and diced, I was stitched up and sent on my way.. after paying the bill that is.  I made it to that glorious bus that would take me home and away from these professional torturers.  I must have been quite a sight with a mouth full of swabs and bloody teeth.  No one sat next to me, maybe the ice pack I held to my jaw kept them away.  Now I sit at home hardly able to talk (much to the delight of my husband) not able to eat and a face so swollen it looks like I have been in the ring with a professional boxer.  Why do we do it?  Why do we let these so called professionals torture us?