About Dr. Dental Dementor

Because when you have a teeth-cleaning appointment for 8:30 a.m., what else is going to be on your mind?
I know this isn't fair, but: I hate the dentist. Not personally. No. Really nice guy. Young. Went to IU. Have some mutual friends. Has a TV in "the hygiene room" for which they'll give you the remote during your "procedure."
I'm not fond of the dental hygienist either--again, really nice, but: Where is Madame Promfey when you need her?
For in these dental professionals' hands is held the instrument of torture -- the dental probe. My heart rate goes out the window just catching a glimpse of it, and the thought of it touching my tender teeth and gums....
On a bad day, when The Probe is put down, Dr. Dental Dementor picks up the ultimate instrument of death -- the needle of Novocaine. And what comes after that, I black out. Can't handle it.
Okay, so I've got lousy teeth: I'm prone to cavities, I love sugar, and I've got a mouth of metal that makes Metallica look tame.
I try to take really, REALLY good care of them: I've flossed for 20 years or more, I brush two or more times a day, I swish with complete care mouthwash, etc.
But still, twice a year, under the lights, here they come: the Dental Dementors. Right at me, ready to suck my soul outta me. Welcome to Azkaban in Aboite.
However, like Sirius Black, I survived this morning's imprisonment. However, I have an appointment for October for...a crown replacement. Think there are any tickets available for the Space Shuttle? When's that mission to Mars?
So...how about you? Do you fear the Dental Dementor's kiss?