Last night some good friends of mine begged me to avoid the political arena in this week’s column and I couldn’t agree more. With Election Day now come and gone, I decided it would be best to let it lie – we’ll see how things turn out in the weeks, months and years to come – and turn to something a little less serious.

Of all my fears – more terrifying than nuclear war, alien invasion, climate change or yes, even politicians – the one thing which reduces me to a quivering pile of jelly is the dentist.

I suppose I’m exaggerating a bit, but if I were phobic, I would definitely be considered a dentophobiac.

Even as a young child I was convinced that modern dentistry originally evolved from the barbaric dungeon torture chambers of the Middle Ages. I mean think about it, they do use a lot of the same tools – picks, pliers, screws, drills, hammers, needles and whatnot. Just the high-pitched whine of a dentist’s drill and I’m ready to run for the hills.

There’s a cruel sense of humor to the fact that my fear was not always so all-consuming. My first several trips to the dentist were actually kind of fun, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s planned out that way. A quick cleaning, a new toothbrush and maybe a lollipop (how ironic) and you were on your way. Sure, a dental cleaning isn’t the most pleasant of experiences, but it’s not all that painful really.

No, my (I consider it totally reasonable) fear of dentists began with my first cavity and the filling which ensued. I can’t imagine what my first dentist thought of the look on my face when he held up that enormous (or so it seemed at the time) Novocain needle. I’m sure it was a mixture of terror and disbelief that this man, though a professional, really thought I was going to let him jab that thing into my mouth. I’m pretty sure that’s when I started to shake uncontrollably.

Next, however, that high-pitched, piercing whine I mentioned earlier. I find it hard to believe, with all that modern technology has to offer us, dentists the world over have not discovered a way to produce a noise-free way to drill. Just the thought of that sound and I start to get a cold, panicky feeling. Yet the drilling and subsequent fillings I’ve received over the years pale in comparison to the true evil – braces.