He sits down, gripping the armrests like they’re the only things keeping him alive.
The female dentist smiles politely and pulls out the numbing needle.
Instant meltdown.
“No way! No needles! I hate needles! I’ll pass out, I swear!”
He’s practically climbing out of the chair.
“Alright,” she says calmly, used to dramatic patients.
She sets the needle aside and begins preparing the nitrous oxide.
But the second she touches the mask, he panics again.
“No! No gas! I can’t have anything on my face! The mask will suffocate me! I can’t breathe just thinking about it!”
The dentist stops, staring at him for a moment, trying to figure out how this grown man manages to survive daily life.
“Okay,” she says slowly, “do you have any objection to taking a pill?”
His whole body relaxes.
“No objection at all! I take pills just fine. Give me whatever you want.”
She nods, walks out of the room, and returns with a small tablet.
She hands it to him.
“Here you go. It’s Viagra.”
His eyes widen.
“Viagra? I didn’t know Viagra worked as a painkiller!”
“It doesn’t,” she says, putting on her gloves.
“But it’ll give you something to hold on to while I give you the needle.”
The man goes silent.
For the first time all day… he stops complaining.
