Nobody much seems to like dentists. I wonder why anyone wants to become one? I think they go to uni forever too, just to learn how to create torture in people’s mouths….

I know I probably shouldn’t have that attitude towards dentists – that they’re torturers – but they really seem to be. They have all sorts of shiny sharp instruments and do all sorts of nasty things, and nobody ever feels good about visiting them.

Mum says we have to go every 6 months. I don’t know why. It’s not like it’s the law or anything. And most of my friends don’t seem to go that often. But I have to for some reason.

Anyway, this time we went, last week, was like all the last times when I really didn’t want to go. In fact it actually made me feel sick in my tummy all day before I had to go. I wish mum would make the appointment first thing in the morning so I don’t have to feel sick all day.

When I got to the dentist, as always, they were super smiley and nice to me. No-one is ever actually horrible, that’s for sure,  but it still isn’t the kind of place I’d like to work…where all your customers are scared to death when they walk in. It’s not like working a the ice-cream shop where everyone is super happy when they walk in! The lady behind the front desk always asks how my day at school was, and asks me if I have had any teeth fall out recently….why would she even want that to happen? The dentist would have nothing to do if all my teeth were gone??!

Anyway, this time the dentist did a bit more umming and ahh-ing than usual when she looked in my mouth. She said some random numbers and words to her assistant and the assistant put stuff into the computer, but it didn’t make much sense to me. I can only hope it was all good stuff!

She asked me if I had any pain when I chewed, or any time at all, and asked me to put my front and back teeth together…and I could feel that they didn’t all line up but I tried to make them anyway.  I really didn’t want anything to be wrong, because I was scared she’d get her little pokey tool out and start talking to mum about ‘stuff that needs doing’. I’d heard that conversation before when Dad was in the chair once, and it didn’t sound good …. and dad kind of swore and muttered under his breath afterwards about how expensive and unnecessary it all was, and I didn’t want him to say the same thing about me.

In the end she did get one of her pokey tools out, and I had to really calm myself down as it approached my mouth. All I could think about was the amount of pain it could inflict in the wrong hands. I kept closing my lips up, which made it harder for her, and then she’d pry it open again. My heart was racing a million miles an hour and I had to slow it down, because I felt like I might actually vomit. And that would be the most embarrassing thing ever. I remembered there was a meditation exercise that my teacher taught us once, about how to calm your breathing if you ever got in a tight situation. So I tried to get my brain to do the visualisation thing and then start counting backwards from 100. It did help a bit to slow down the panic, and must have slowed down time too, because before I got to 78 she was done.

There are lots of kids at school who are getting plates and spacers and all sorts of weird metal in their mouths.  Most of them hate it, and get food caught in them and it looks gross.  It also makes most of them talk weirdly, and they get teased plenty. I really don’t want that. The girls just say that they don’t care though, because they’ll have Hollywood smiles when they’re older. I don’t even know what a Hollywood smile is but I don’t think I care for one.

So this last visit I desperately hoped that all would be well and that she’d just say ‘see you next time’, like normal. My hopes were dashed however, when she said to mum that we’d have to ‘monitor’ the eye teeth as they came in and that in 6-9 months I’d possibly need to go to the orthodontist. I don’t really know what an orthodontist does, but I don’t much like the sound of it. The only relief is that it’s still 6 months away and still only a ‘possibly’. Fingers crossed my eye teeth do as they’re told.


(Meditation, p. 50-51, Attitude, p. 4, Feelings affect your body, p. 30-31, Complaining, p.20, A for Attitude)

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