Pass the laughing gas, PLEASE.

Awhile ago I had a fairly traumatic experience at the dentist's office.
Oral surgeon's actually.
I was getting my wisdom teeth out.
I knew about this procedure enough to not be totally scared of it. I knew that sometimes they have to break the tooth into pieces before extracting it and that I would hear lots of scary noises. I also knew that local anaesthetics and some nitrous oxide would help ease my nerves.
Not so. Local anaesthetics yes, but the nitrous oxide was not administered, leaving my nerves free to run wild and as fast as they could through my system along with adrenaline and whatever fun chemicals take over your body when it starts to panic.
I heard and felt with sharp awareness the pressure, wiggling, dismemberment of capillaries, and breaking motions. The blood and the guaze and the latex filled my nostrils. My skull vibrated along with the drills and chisels and the whole time my nails were digging into my palms and my body shaking like a wet dog running away from a windy freezing lightning storm.

So for this reason, I am not looking forward to my on-the-fly, next-day dental appointment that is so urgent apparently that it can't wait until next week.
4 hours and $400 dollars later I will either be crying like a baby or annoyed that my dentist still hasn't seen Brokeback Mountain (though it's probably just for fear of looking in the mirror). I'm going to hope for the latter because the last time I cried at the dentist they said, "you should have told us!" but didn't realize that I couldn't because my brain was too busy panicking to even think the words, "laughing gas?" and then when it was, there were already 2 sets of hands in my mouth and it was too late.