I really want to talk more about Bohol but there is something flaming on my mind for quite a few days now. A few days after returning home, I went to the dentist to have my teeth cleaned. I hate going to the dentist. (Here is a prehistoric post chronicling my no relationship with the dentist.)
Somehow, it feels like one of those scenes in horror movies where you see an abandoned house, eerily silent on top of a hill, and you are certain you should not go inside, but it could not be helped. Not that I watch a lot of horror movies, in fact I avoid them like the plague, but I swear the dentist feels like this every damn time. But you got to go when you got to go, right?
Thing is, I did not just go there for teeth cleaning. I had to get a consult about my teeth because the front ones at the bottom of my mouth resembles the leaning tower of Pisa for the longest time and it is starting to affect my upper front teeth. Disgusting. I had the notion that I might need braces but when it came from the dentist’s mouth, it felt like a death sentence.
Two of my sisters wore braces in the past and it was not a beautiful thing to behold. I imagine it like the opening scene in Saw 4 (I’m not sure if it was 4) where a couple of people had to cut out pieces of their body to earn freedom. Wearing braces might not be that graphic but I’m certain it’d hurt. Damn. Plus it would also alter my eating habits and add more work to my mouth hygiene. If it’s any consolation, the dentist said it’d probably take only a year.
I haven’t committed to it yet because I’m scared out of my wits. What should I do? (Please don’t say invisalign – that costs a fortune!)
Photo taken from here.