I was lying on my back blinking up at a haze of white that alternated from bright to dim  over and over.  Occasionally I could feel the corner of the haze lift, then settle against my cheek again.  I knew there were people around me, above me, but I could see them.  I could hear them, but I couldn’t understand the things they were saying.  And worse, I knew they were doing things, but I didn’t know what they were till I felt them, until they started to hurt and even then all I knew was that it hurt, not what it was or why they were doing it.

The surreal part was that I had asked for this.  I wasn’t strapped down.  There were no bonds keeping me lying down.  My hands were free to defend myself, but I kept them tightly folded together over my stomach.  I could have kicked if I wanted too.  I could have jumped up and torn the shroud from over my eyes and left.  No one would have stopped me.  But even as my knees jerked at each prod and sharp pain, I stayed put.  I willed myself into that chair.  And when it was finally all over, when they finally removed my blindfold themselves…I’d pay them money for the privilege of this torture.

The dentist is a funny place.  

One wonders, if we bind ourselves so willing for these small things, where will we find the impetus for resistance?  Here we are, ignore our most basic protection instinct: pain.  If it hurts, it’s wrong, it should stop.  Yet, I will myself to remain as still as possible, only acknowledging my hurt with small whimpers and only receiving in recognition a sigh or a “I know” while my dentist continues to jab sharp things in my nerve.  If I’m so willing to lie still for this…how still will I be, will society be, for things that don’t hurt until it’s too late?  Is our willingness to bind ourselves systemic?  How far does it go?  How much torture are we willing to endure before we get up and walk?

Also, why do they always say “I know” when you start screaming?