9/24/12
My loathing of dentists has been quite well documented. I am not ashamed of the fact that I have anxiety around dentists, it's just another part of me - as Michael Jackson might have said. That being said, I usually am cool with cleanings. I do have sort of sensitive gums, due to the fact that I never really floss, since that would make going to the dentist easier, and I think I might be addicted to the fear of the situation. However, cleanings are more often than not pretty benign affairs. So knowing that I had to drop off the boy with my cousin today and get my teeth cleaned wasn't such a big deal - I can handle this kind of thing.
I was wrong.
It started off fine - great even - the hygienist knew my mom and dad, she was really friendly, and she gave me topical anesthetic for my gums. Bonus! Then she got to work. I was vaguely aware that she was using a whole lot of elbow while cleaning, my lower jaw felt like I was supporting her entire weight on my lower jaw at times. It wasn't until she said casually, "You'll probably need to take a few advil tonight, and wont be able to eat anything too solid for a while..." AFTER A CLEANING???? holy crap. Then, reality came rushing at me when I finally got to rinse, and instead of seeing maybe a pink tinge to the mouthwash, I spit blood like my tongue had just been cut out. And it didn't stop either - I spit the same bright red horror movie a few more times, and after giving the receptionist a winning bloody smile, spit more on my way home. As I write this at 8:15 PM (the appointment was at 10 AM), I am no longer bloody, but good god damn, my gums feel like somebody chewed them and put them back into my mouth.
Its official, I still hate the dentist.
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