Perhaps I should start from the top ...
Well, let's see, I think I was about ... seven? when I needed to get a cavity filled. It wasn't my first filling, but the dentist had always made me a little nervous. I sat in the chair nervously and he began to work. All of a sudden, I started coughing and choking and nearly dying; apparently the drill wasn't attached properly and had fallen off down my throat and now I was choking on it. Eventually it got unstuck, but instead of coming out of my mouth it went further down my throat and got stuck again. At least it wasn't blocking my wind pipe anymore. But I did get very very sick after a while, and I had to go to the hospital for three days and have surgery to get the drill bit out. Then the dentist didn't even apologize because apparently it was all my fault it fell off. I didn't buy it and now I believe that that man was evil.
Moving on to present day ...
Last night my parents told me they had scheduled a dentist appointment for this morning. Well geez, I thought, I'm eighteen and I don't need you to schedule appointments for me anymore. I can do it myself when I need to. But NOOOO, they said that I HAD to go to the dentist.
So this morning, I stayed in my room and didn't get started on my hair, make-up, anything. Then my mom knocks on my door and asks why I'm not up yet, my appointment is in half an hour. I cleverly blamed it on 'my alarm that didn't go off.' So I rolled out of bed and decided to take my time and make sure I didn't miss a step, because as we all know, we must look good for the dentist ... (not really, I was just stalling because I hoped I would just miss the appointment obviously).
- my hair straight as straight can be
- really good eyeshadow, that will stay in place all day
- mascara AND false eyelashes, for double the volume
- my eyebrows perfectly symmetrical
- luscious lipstick
- the PERFECT outfit
I did all this in hopes that I would miss my appointment, which I did, as this all took an hour. I was thinking, yes, this day is going well, it is indeed. But my mom came downstairs and said my appointment is still on. There was no escape now. I said I needed to brush my teeth first, and I brushed them for a LOOOOOONG time. So long, that they felt like I had already had them cleaned by the dentist.
Then me and my mom drove to the dentists office. Lucky for me, they called me in as soon as I walked through the door. And lucky for me, it was my second least favourite dentist (next to the one that put me in the hospital). Now, I admit that when we first switched dentists after the incident that I wasn't in the mood to be particularly friendly to her, but I felt I was decent enough. But apparently something about me just triggers her hate bone and we kind of fight all the time. My mom notices it too, this dentist is very mean to my sister and dad as well. Last time I came to see her though, I was very very friendly, I was trying my most hardest-est. But it wasn't good enough and she was still such a bitch to me. This time, I was in a bad, bad mood.
I walk in and she says, 'How are you this morning?'
And I say truthfully, 'Pretty awful.'
And she says, 'Why?'
And I say, 'I had the worst week ever.'
And she says, 'It can't have been that bad.'
And I say, 'I don't feel like talking anymore.'
And she got to work on my teeth. Then, with her hands in my mouth (because for some reason dentists want to start conversations with you when you can't even talk properly), she asks, 'Where are you working these days?'
I wait about thirty seconds for her to finally get her ugly hands out of there, and I say, 'I said, I don't feel like talking anymore.'
And her eyebrows above her mask crease and she says, 'Why do I even bother talking to you,' and mumbles something that sounds a lot like 'you little snob.'
And I noticed everything seems a lot rougher and hurts like hell. I look at the spit sucker thing and I notice everything it sucks is not clear, but red. I look at the dentist, whose eyebrows are still creased and ugly looking. As I sit with the fluoride in my mouth, blood and spit trickle down my chin. When she was finally done, my whole mouth was throbbing, but I didn't want to tell her how much it hurt because then she would be satisfied. So I didn't complain once. As I got up she said, 'Just because you had an awful week doesn't mean you can be rude.'
And I said, 'One of my friends was killed in an accident the other day, I'm not really concerned about being rude at the moment.' I hope she feels like a dick now.
Then I came out to my mom in the waiting room and my mom said it seemed like a really short time. I said it was, because the dentist was a jerk and wanted to make it really painful for me. My mom says we're switching dentists for me again. Maybe I'll actually get a friendly one.
So ... that's the story of why I hate going to the dentist. I was traumatized when I was seven then we switched to a dentist that hates my whole family. It sounds very dramatic ... but believe me, it is that dramatic. It really sucks actually. Ah well, chin up, when it's time to go to the dentist again, I'm going to be moved out and my parents won't be able to schedule an appointment for me. I'm going to try and skip it altogether. I've had no cavities or anything since I was ten, and I like my crooked teeth, they're kind of cute and they look like fangs. So I have no reason to go.
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