The Dentist

My mouth hurts. I need to go to the dentist. 

GEEZ! Just for one day I'd like to have a task on my to-do list that doesn't involve me spiraling into a frenzied panic attack. 

I don't like going to the dentist. In elementary school, most of my life was spent at the orthodontist dealing with my braces. After they were removed, I foolishly thought my dealings with my dental hygiene were over. Please. 

My wisdom teeth came in very slowly and I felt every micro movement. From college to quite recently I nursed my dental whoas with warm water and salt or oil pulling. I'm beyond that now. I'm scared the dentist is going to tell me I need my whole jaw removed. And that wouldn't be surprising. Growing up, my grandma had dentures and by her mid 50s, after years of smoking, my mom's teeth were falling out nearly daily and she kept them in a Ziploc baggie. Needless to say, I'm not expecting good news from my dental visit. Just more b$lls&t to be worried about🫤

Teeth

Me and my teeth have had a bad history.
When I was a kid, my mom was taken by some type of dental charlatan. He told her that all I needed to cure the fact that my adult teeth had come in early through shooting out of the gumline beside my baby teeth were rubber bands on my molars. He also insisted that I sleep in some type of head contraption that fastened around my chin with a velcro strap.
After spending God knows how much money with this clown, my mom woke up and smelled the coffee. I started going to a real orthodontist. I mean sure, his office was on the back end of the most ghetto mall in the city, but his office was clean and he used mouth stuff that tasted like candy. Never mind that his breath smelled miserable. He installed the braces that I needed oh so badly.
By the sixth grade, my braces were gone, and I had smooth, white, straight, gorgeous teeth. However, by the 9th grade, I was getting phantom toothaches. By my junior year of college, I bit the bullet and went to the on-campus dentist whose office was on the ground level of what looked to be a small housing project that the school had purchased and turned into a dorm. I remember it was hella dark in there. The dentist told me that I needed a root canal and that he would be happy to perform it after we got back from a hurricane evacuation. A year later, he was gone and never replaced. I was too broke to go to a dentist off-campus. Did I mention also that, at 21, I lost my last baby tooth? It came out while I was eating a bowl of soup, leaving a huge yet lovable gap on the right side of my mouth.
Today I sit here a woman in her early 30s, teething. My wisdom teeth come in a little then stop on and off throughout the year. And, I noticed when trying to film my first IGTV video that my bottom teeth are shifting and that I probably need a retainer or something. Now, I get to be one of those gross spitty mouth people, if I can even rummage up the money to go to the dentist.
This is the drama that is my teeth. This drama will end in about two years when I undoubtedly have to get dentures.