For most of you who know me, you should know that I've never enjoyed visiting the dentist. Now that I have braces, these dismal pilgrimages occur once every month. Typically, my "cleaning" and "wire-changing" dates are scheduled on separate dates, so that I don't get overwhelmed. As luck would have it, this month the two fell upon the same dark day.
Imagine being chained to a cold stone wall, deep in the dungeon of some French prison tower. Now imagine having your mouth pried open by a grubby block of wood and having little needles poked into your gums. Repeatedly poked. And now imagine having a repulsive paste scrubbed onto your teeth - it honestly felt like I was being force fed a bucket of sand - and the little grains were becoming permanently lodged between my bicuspids. I felt no improvement in the cleanliness of my mouth - in fact, I felt confident that they may have been using a reverse psychology method. Now that they've made my mouth dirtier than it has ever been, when I next brush my teeth, I'll feel like a new man through and through.
It makes me wonder about all of the people who rant and rave about how much they loooove the dentist. I mean, how much different could it possibly be? Fine, I'll admit it. My teeth are cleaner. And I'm grateful for that fact. However, I never crave the sensation of a metal pick scratching away inside of my mouth. Give me a toothbrush, a pack of floss, and a bottle of mouthwash, and I'm a happy man.
Okay, I'm done.
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