With me, it was dictation. Okay, so it was 100 years ago, long before computers, and I didn't realize I had IBS. Every time my boss called me into his office for dictation, I panicked. I knew that meant several HOURS in that chair, listening to him ramble on and ON (he was an attorney). I just sat there, with the door shut, waiting for my inevitable attack. And it always came. I had to interrupt him, in the middle of his brief, and excuse myself -- every SINGLE TIME! He hated it, I could tell 'cause I could hear his grumbling as I dashed from his office.
I'll take the dentist any day to an attorney! 
Bev.
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<img src="http://home.comcast.net/~letsrow/smily3481.gif">Bevvy
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Dictation!!
