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It lingers in our subconscious. It even pops up in the odd horror movie, though I wish it wouldn’t. Why is the dentist drill so terrifying? I mean, it
does us good, right? Despite reassurance from my dentist, a nice bloke, by all accounts, I still flinched endlessly and strived to yelp like my jack
Russell during my recent cosmeticdentistryguide.co.uk/articles/root-canal.html treatment
during a visit to one of the numerous Dublin dentists my love affair with jelly babies has obliged me
to make.

Now, I don’t want to cause a wave of buying a dental practice guide simply by highlighting my fear
of the drill, I just wish to consider why it is that instrument and its piercing noise fill me with dread when I know the person wielding it is as safe
and qualified as you can possibly get. Is it passed down from generation to generation? No, mum’s fine and doesn’t see what my lily-livered problem is.
Perhaps I could buy one and keep it round the house, familiarising myself with it? Perhaps I shouldn’t write all my thoughts down. Nevertheless,
through the power of the will I shall overcome the drill. Or at least stop crying in its presence.