I was 5 years old. My mom dragged me to the dentists office. I hated the dentist. The cleaning hurt my mouth really bad and the dentist always got me in trouble and said I didn’t brush good enough.
As we entered the office, the awful smell hit me. I could hear drilling and metal clinging from the treatment rooms. I wondered what kinds of procedures were happening jn tbe other rooms.
Then, the nurse that I hated the most called my name. I reluctantly followed her to the treatment room. She had me edit down in the chair, and put a bib on me. I had to have x rays, the kind with a bite wing that cuts up your mouth.
Then, the chair leaned back to where my feel were just above my head. The nurse got out all of her tools. She started with the scraper. I winced and whimpered as she poked and prodded each tooth and gum, and cried out when some of the sent electric shocks down my body. She got out the infrasonic and I winced and wouldn’t open. She put a scizzory looking gag in my mouth and put the ultrasonic to work. I hated the shrill sounds it made and the sucker machine hanging out of my mouth. It was humiliating.
Then, the big scary dentist came. He said I had cavities. I had never had one before, but I knew it meant I was in trouble with my mom. I started crying as he got out a machine I’d never seen before, the drill. He drilled my teeth with no numbing medicine for what felt like hours. The nurse tried to hold a mask to my nose, and it made me feel heavy. I tried to reach up and grab the drill from the dentist.
Then, I got in trouble. The dentist yelled and said I could get hurt. He wrapped me to the chair so I couldn’t move. The mask and drill still whining away, I felt like I would die from the pain.
Then, to my horror, many ugly black amalgams took the place of my teeth.