"It's really not going to hurt," Dr. Siegel said, scary-looking dental tools in his hand.
I'm sure I looked like an abused puppy, but I was doing my best to be brave.
"I'll be just fine. As long as I can have sedation when I come back for my fillings." I said, spitting the last part out quickly.
"Sure," he said, making a note on his chart. "I mean, it won't hurt whether you have it or not, but you'll be calmer if you have the sedation. I can do it either way."
"Well," I said. "It seems to me that it will make your job easier to do if I'm not quite so tense."
The dentist laughed affably.
"Lady, I know you think you're scared, but believe me, you're an Israeli commando compared to some of the people I've had in this chair. Shall we finish your cleaning?"
I leaned back and opened my mouth, tensing for that awful scraping sound that accompanies a dental cleaning.
Suddenly, unbidden, the words "Levi! Hold my AK-47 while I take a piss!" bubbled up to my brain as I pictured my Buddha-shaped self in brown camouflage with a canteen at my side. I had to stifle a smile to hold my mouth in the proper position.
I thought about when I'd been listening to the two girls I used to babysit prepare for their bat mitvahs and one of them had said that the seven words that describe every Jewish holiday were "They attacked us, we won. Let's eat."
And I thought about a close friend of LinguistFriend's whom I've never met, but who spent time in the Isreali army. LF's discriptions make her sound like the most badass person who has ever lived. SHE would be just fine in a dental chair, assuming the cavities weren't too afraid of her to set in in the first place.
And somehow I survived it.
Maybe I can find an IDF beret to wear to my filling.