I feel like a kid again!
Maybe the people I know are anomalies, but none of my friends seems to dread going to the dentist as much as I do. I don't understand: to me it's self-evidently terrible. But if I have to spell it out, so be it:
First off, I hate the guilt trip you have to endure each time. Have you been flossing? Well then, have you been flossing the right way every day? How many times a day do you brush? Twice, well that's the minimum—if that's all you want to do it's your decision.
More than that, though, is the pain. Forget drilling or root canals. I'm talking about the run-of-the-mill cleaning pain. You know something is wrong when you're wondering, "do all women have hands this strong?" Basically, you sit there and have somebody scrape your mouth to hell and you have to submit obediently.
So to summarize, sitting down for forty-five minutes and being told what you're doing wrong with your life while your mouth is passioned up worse than Christ and waterboarded like Guantanamo is not my idea of a good time.
Labels: dentists, healthcare
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