I hate dentists....and they hate me.

No question.

I'm the world's worst dental patient.

EVER.

No, really. EVERRRRRR.

I'm 17 and haven't been at the dentist in over 2 years. Creative manipulation of a poor overworked single mother (guilt-ridden over this...I'm so gonna get mine with Lil Rambler).

The kind pediatric dentist that really "understood" me had to pass me on to his nephew because I was a 'big girl' now.

No. No I'm Not. You know this. That's why I squeeze myself in the kiddie chair at 17 to have YOU work on my mouth. YOU have magic fingers. I go to a place filled with unicorns and rainbows when YOU stick that damn drill in my mouth.

Nephew dentist....is nothing like his uncle. He's the most impatient person you could give an anxiety filled teenager like myself.

We knew there would be trouble when I gagged aggressively while X-raying my mouth and the X-ray thingies flew out of my mouth and hit the wall.

Several times.

Sheeshnacks hit the fan when he told me I needed a root canal. The only memory I recalled of a root canal was a story my father told another friend about that being the worst thing to ever have done at the dentist. I believe I heard this story in like '79 at the age of 4 but somehow felt like in '93 they still used the same methods as the first dentists to graduate from dental school.

I panicked.

I came up with several excuses someone my age could come up with.

"I have prom coming up." (his eyebrows went up while he sharpened his mean evil dental tools)

"My B-Ball tournament is tomorrow." (The bastard actually holds the needle to numb my mouth so I can see it....seriously do you want me to faint right here?)

"My boyfriend and I have plans" (Wait...Wait...Wait....you promise I won't...Ouch...)

"My mother won't be able to drive me here" (And my mouth has been injected. He walks out to wait out for the numbing to work its way to make me sound like a moron on a drunken rampage)

He drills.

He drills some more.

He yanks on my mouth.

He puts some fake puddy in the hole he just put in my bad tooth.

I need to come back for part two. He says VERY IMPORTANT.

1.5 years later (oh yes....that long. I'm stupid like that.) my fake temporary tooth cracks. I go into complete pain, and have to call the dentist.

He was NOT happy.

I got a lecture. What part of come back for Part Two did I not understand.

I didn't eff up the part one of two that bad that he could do the part two part. (you get that?)

To do this root canal they had to put a plastic dam shield (keep crap from going down my throat) with a clamp on the tooth he needed to work on. This is shoved in my mouth as far back in as he could get it without suffocating me.

Whatever I do, per him, I must let him finish the whatever was so important part or he'll have to start again.

Gagger + Mouth breather= choking on spit accumulating on plastic dam dripping down my throat.

He was frantic and quickly tried to finish as I dry heaved in the seat with this contraption clamped to my mouth with a clamp handle ready to puncture a hole in the plastic dam and go down my throat.

He BEGS for 45 more seconds.

I Dry Heave more.

It's a no go.

Very unhappy dentist.

Second time around proved better but has put him late for his next appointment.

I just had to come back for my crown to pop on and he made it clear that this situation would be a repeat if I didn't come back to get this done.

I listened.

Seriously people....run if you see me in your dentists office waiting room.

For your own safety.