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I
hate going to the dentist. There is nothing about an office visit that I feel comfortable
with. Every time, anywhere I hear the expression, “This won’t hurt,” I immediately think
of the dentist. Every time the dentist says it, I tense. The only thing pleasant about a
dentist visit is the trip home.
The anxiety I feel in a dentist’s waiting
room is the killer. Just the humming of that drill can make my skin crawl. I must admit
that the dental chair can be rather comfortable, lying back in a restful position. How
can I rest, though, staring at those ugly steel instruments that I know will be invading
my mouth within the next few moments? Then, of course, comes that blaring spotlight
zooming directly into my eyes!
Thank goodness that dentists wear
masks these days. There is nothing more disgusting than your mouth being forced open with
instruments being shoved inside of it, not being able to swallow, and having this person
up close breathing foul breath into your mouth and up your nostrils! I would always start
gagging when faced with this situation. What could I possibly say to my dentist when he
asked me what was wrong? I just couldn’t embarrass or insult him by saying, “Your breath
stinks!” I really should have asked him if he practiced what he preached. Didn’t he
brush, floss, and gargle?
There is one thing I could never understand
about every dentist I ever went to. Why do they all ask questions while working in your
mouth? I’m sure they know you can’t answer. Why do they feel the need to make
conversation? I really would love to say, “Please be quiet. Concentrate on what you’re
doing, and let me get the hell out of here!”
There is nothing that
the dentist does to me that doesn’t hurt or feel extremely uncomfortable. I cringe just
thinking about that stupid pick with its pointy tip used in cleaning the teeth. Scrape,
scrape, scrape. Ewwww! My body stiffens waiting for that pick to hit a tender spot.
People have said to me that they don’t mind having their teeth cleaned. Well, I do! First
that pick is used throughout my entire mouth, and with every tooth the dentist moves onto
is the big waiting game. You know, the one called, “Let’s See If This One Hurts.” Then
that gritty-tasting stuff is placed on an instrument that vibrates against my teeth. It
seems that no matter how much I try spitting that stuff out, my mouth still feels as if I
just came home from the beach, without the enjoyment that is.
Then of
course there is that dreaded drill. The anticipation of the pain I will undoubtedly feel
begins before the drilling begins. Oh, I just love when the dentist says, “I’ll drill
until it hurts.” Well, excuse me, but I don’t want to feel the pain at all! Novocain
doesn’t help me. My mouth is so sensitive that I have trouble getting numb. The last time
I had dental work, the dentist gave me 3 needles and my gums still weren’t numb. My lips
numbed, my words slurred, and I was dizzy, but my gums were very much alive!
I don’t even like my mouth being x-rayed. Those plastic things
inserted into my mouth hurt my jaws and I feel like choking!
When
finished with dental visits, the dentist always says, “See you in six months.” I then say
to myself, “No, you won’t. Six months is too soon. Be back next year.” Naturally, six
months later, the receptionist calls to remind me it’s time for a check-up. I really hate
that! Sometimes I tell her that I’m very busy and that I’ll get back to her. I can let a
few months pass that way. I just can’t seem to lie every time, so mostly I just surrender
and let her schedule an appointment.
I can’t believe it when I hear
people say they don’t mind going to the dentist. I knew a man who said he’d rather go to
the dentist than the barber! “What, are you kidding?” I asked him. “I can’t stand anyone
touching my head,” he answered. Personally, I would prefer having someone wash, cut,
curl, color, dye, perm, blow dry, brush, comb, or anything else they want to do to my
scalp, head, or hair than picking, scraping, pulling, drilling teeth, putting needles in
my gums and spitting out gook and blood!
The loveliest sound in the
world is hearing my dentist tell me that my teeth and gums are healthy and that no work
needs to be done in my mouth. Ah, I’m free, I think to myself. I can get out of here and
not be bothered for the next six months. I believe that’s the only thing that my dentist
says to me that doesn’t hurt.
