What I hate about going to the dentist
The other day I wrote about my heartbreaking goodbye to my primary care doctor. I adored our relationship. Here, today, I am going to write a completely opposite sentiment. I do not mean to belittle the dental industry, however, I just cannot stand going to the dentist. And let me explain.
First off, they do not get my sense of humor. Of course, I am a bit dark and they are a dark field. What do I mean by that? well, did you know that dentists have high suicide rates? Yes, they do. They are not well like as a profession. That gets to some people. I made such a joke when I went to see my latest dentist (about my 4th in two years). No one thought it as funny, My visit went downhill real fast after that.
Second, I hate the taste of metal in my mouth. I cannot stand it. I also cannot stand the smell of the drill. That whirring sound Don’t get me started on it.
Third, they treat your visit like a party where you are not the guest of honor but the clown. They have three or four people crowding about your mouth and they note all your imperfections. Not cool and enough said.
Fourth, speaking of which, dentists seem to be a bit judgmental. I once went to my annual physical with my primary care doctor with a bag of gummy bears in my purse. He didn’t flinch and didn’t lecture me. As a matter of facts he said “well, mimi, you work out like two hours a day, I think you burn it off.” If I showed my dentist such a bag, he would probably not stop lecturing me for twenty minutes straight. I heard my latest dentist chastise another patient for not flossing twice a day. Answer me this. Who wants to be reprimanded while mouth wide open and a drill nearby?
Fifth, one always looks like a dork in that dentist seat. I had no idea how dorky one can look until I snapped a quick selfie in the dentist chair when my dentist stepped out for a second. I cringe at that photo. I have not deleted it as I want to keep it as a motivating force to not have to go back to the dentist.
Sixth, they make you go at least twice a year. That’s more times than going to see my in-laws. And that is just a minimum number of visits a year. Eek.
Seventh, health insurance does not really cover much. That just makes the visits even more painful. I am judged, made to look like a dork and end up in pain often. All so that I can pay a ton of our of pocket costs.
Drop the mic and walk off the stage. Later..