The ominous sight of the familiar postcard, that seemed to mock me as I plucked it from my mailbox, caused my stomach to start churning immediately. How could it possibly be that time again? I suppose it is inevitable that the routine experiences in life that we fear, in my case a visit to the dentist, seem to approach us with greater rapidity than we might prefer. This was one occasion when I wished that the postman had put my mail into a neighbor's box! I sat in the kitchen repeatedly reading the "Please call our office at the above number to schedule your appointment"- segment of the postcard. The impending feeling of doom consumed me. "Well, enough of this" I told myself sharply, as I wiped my now clammy hands on my sweater. I picked up the telephone that was lying next to me, ignored the return of the butterflies in my stomach, and dialed the number.…
