Some people like going to the dentist.
I imagine these people call themselves dentistophiles. They’re the kind of person who likes hands in their mouth, and being told to open wider seventeen times consecutively.
Others don’t like it so much. These are the dentistohaters. They don’t like hands in their mouths, and have a terrible fear that on the seventeenth time the dentist will shriek, ‘Too far! Too far! Oh God! Please, God, no!’
Personally, I’m ambivalent about being the subject of dentistry. Maybe this is because my teeth are okay and I don’t have much trouble with them. The last time I was at the dentist my teeth were described as beautiful, which was nice until the rest of my face was described as, ‘that stuff on the front of your head.’