(no subject)
This is a monologue I wrote for Playwriting, which is the only class I like in all three semesters I've been here. I recieved a good grade on it.
I wish I could get over my unfounded fear of dentists. I’ve never quite been able to figure it out. Maybe it’s the loud, high-pitched whirring sound of the drill, or the pointed hook called a “dental explorer” that they always poke your gums with. Or maybe it’s because at every visit I am lectured sternly about how I’m neglecting my teeth, but first of all, that’s not true, and second of all I HATE going to the dentist so I don’t go often. I brush morning and night in the interest of not scaring my friends away with bad breath and to avoid cavities, but I seem to get them a lot anyway. I can’t comprehend it, I don’t even eat that much candy. My wisdom teeth are now coming in, and my mother half-forced me to go to the dentist to get them checked out this morning, and I was immediately berated for not having visited in two and a half years. The last time I went there was because I cracked a tooth and my mother still had to drag me on the verge of kicking and screaming. Great. Just fucking great. One of my wisdom teeth is growing in at a critically horrific angle and is apparently in danger of impacting into my ear canal. I have a one-month window to get it pulled before that happens, and in that case I need all four of them pulled. I’d much rather just leave it because it doesn’t hurt that much now if I eat handfuls of ibuprofen every couple hours and you know what? Having a tooth in my ear sounds kind of cool! …At least, compared to having oral surgery. Then the dentist went on and on about the aesthetics of my teeth, about how I need to get this filed and that filed and that my bottom teeth are becoming impacted… Okay, okay, okay, so I won’t try to be a fucking supermodel. If the situation on my bottom jaw becomes worse then perhaps I’ll look into invisalign, but I’m well past middle school so metal braces are not an option. I had a retainer in high school for the top but I never wore it because it was unsightly, made me talk like I belonged on the short bus, and most importantly, very painful. The discomfort did not subside even after two weeks so I gave up on it, figuring it was ill-fitted. Then my mother was outraged because apparently a chunk of plastic with metal wiring was expensive. That experience probably escalated my ridiculous phobia.
I wish I could get over my unfounded fear of dentists. I’ve never quite been able to figure it out. Maybe it’s the loud, high-pitched whirring sound of the drill, or the pointed hook called a “dental explorer” that they always poke your gums with. Or maybe it’s because at every visit I am lectured sternly about how I’m neglecting my teeth, but first of all, that’s not true, and second of all I HATE going to the dentist so I don’t go often. I brush morning and night in the interest of not scaring my friends away with bad breath and to avoid cavities, but I seem to get them a lot anyway. I can’t comprehend it, I don’t even eat that much candy. My wisdom teeth are now coming in, and my mother half-forced me to go to the dentist to get them checked out this morning, and I was immediately berated for not having visited in two and a half years. The last time I went there was because I cracked a tooth and my mother still had to drag me on the verge of kicking and screaming. Great. Just fucking great. One of my wisdom teeth is growing in at a critically horrific angle and is apparently in danger of impacting into my ear canal. I have a one-month window to get it pulled before that happens, and in that case I need all four of them pulled. I’d much rather just leave it because it doesn’t hurt that much now if I eat handfuls of ibuprofen every couple hours and you know what? Having a tooth in my ear sounds kind of cool! …At least, compared to having oral surgery. Then the dentist went on and on about the aesthetics of my teeth, about how I need to get this filed and that filed and that my bottom teeth are becoming impacted… Okay, okay, okay, so I won’t try to be a fucking supermodel. If the situation on my bottom jaw becomes worse then perhaps I’ll look into invisalign, but I’m well past middle school so metal braces are not an option. I had a retainer in high school for the top but I never wore it because it was unsightly, made me talk like I belonged on the short bus, and most importantly, very painful. The discomfort did not subside even after two weeks so I gave up on it, figuring it was ill-fitted. Then my mother was outraged because apparently a chunk of plastic with metal wiring was expensive. That experience probably escalated my ridiculous phobia.