Eeek! Attack of the evil dentist!

Things have been quiet the last couple of days. Been sick (somehow my stomach reacts to coffee nowadays and get completely out of balance for a day or two) and generally nothing happened.
Until yesterday...
OK, I had an appointment with my dentist to get that temporary filling I got last time out and a real one put in. That was OK and all. Except when I get there and have had my anaestesia (no way I let anyone drill in my teeth without it!!), he notices that I've bitten myself in the cheek on one side. It's due to those stupid teeth most people get when they're around 17-20-ish, all in the back. I dunno what they're called in English (I could give you the norwegian AND german name though). Miss M was kind enough to inform me they're called "wisdom teeth". Which is the same as in norwegian and german. Hah!
ANYWAY, out of the blue the dentist says "Let's do the eight." I dunno what the heck he's talking about, and asume it means doing that temporary filling and say "Sure." "As in pulling your (insert name of that tooth in the back here) tooth", he then fills in. WHAT? I almost ran right out of there. You can't sneak up on me with something like THAT! What the hell? Of course he didn't do it, hearing my very loud objections, but geez... I got totally hysterical. I mean, I've heard so many horror stories about those teeth, and it's not exactly something you do every day. So yeah... I told him that I would have to get back to them on when I wanted to have them done. First of, AHHHHH NOOOO DON'T WANNA! Second, no more money. I've already shelled out more than I can afford right now, and pulling teeth is even more expensive. AND I need to find a day when my love can escort me, 'cause I demand to be doped up before I'll be able to do that. And doped up on valium... I don't trust myself walking around alone afterwards.
But... first we need to save up some cash for this horror.
ah ugh... I was totally hysterical when poor love came home yesterday. I suspect that the pill (yeah, THAT pill) is making me a little psycho. I seem to have a hard time handling things that I ordinarily wouldn't freak out over (OK, I WOULD freak out over this no matter what, but you get the idea). Need to see how things progress. If it gets worse, I need to find something else. Geez... a walking, ticking hormone bomb isn't exactly what my poor love needs :P