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May 21, 2006
Fear and Loathing at the Dentist's Office
Is there a 12-step program for this?
I just finished a fascinating book called Ask the Pilot, which addresses every question you could ever have about commercial air travel. (What does a co-pilot actually do? Why do planes take off and land into the wind? Can turbulence really bring down a plane?) If you’re a nervous flier, or like me, enjoy getting a vicarious taste of other careers without having to do any of the actual work, I highly recommend it. The author gets down to the nitty gritty of weather delays, lost luggage, airport security and the mechanics and physics of flight. And he has a sly sense of humor, which is always a plus.
So now my only question is, when is Ask the Dentist coming out? Because I could really use some help in that department.
I’m due to go in for a routine cleaning. Overdue, actually--my dayplanner had a stern, red-inked note several weeks back reading, “MAKE DENTIST APPOINTMENT. FOR REAL.”
And yet, here I sit, my teeth unclean, my appointment unscheduled. Because I have a crippling phobia of the dentist’s office. The mere sound of a whirring dentist’s drill is enough to incite hyperventilation. The smell of the pasty mint fluoride trays makes my knees wobble. I am such a baby that I actually call my doctor before each dental appointment and bully her into prescribing me an actual sedative so I don’t burst into tears at the first sight of the hygienist’s collection of tools. (I wish I was exaggerating.)
It wasn’t always this way. I was once a cheerful, biddable patient, able to withstand the scaling and gum scraping and flossing lecture without flinching. Ten years of intensive orthodontia (again, I wish I was exaggerating) had left me with a high pain threshold and a seemingly unbreakable spirit. There was a time when, watching torture scenes on Alias where the evil nemesis du jour pries Sydney Bristow’s teeth right out of her head, I could raise my fist in solidarity and know that I, too, could withstand such an ordeal.
Then I met The Dentist Who Shall Live in Infamy (T.D.W.S.L.I.I.). I will spare you the details, except to say that there was one particular visit that involved an exposed nerve, a carelessly wielded plaque scraper, several cavities, and insufficient Novocain. At my follow-up visit, he gravely informed me that I needed a root canal, and after I dissolved into a weepy, mucus-y mess in his receptionist’s arms, I took the advice of a wise friend and demanded a referral to an endodontist, who concluded that I didn’t need any work done at all. No wonder T.D.W.S.L.I.I. always had a shiny new Benz parked outside his office.
So now I’m gun shy. And ashamed of my pansy-ass ways. But not ashamed enough to actually suck it up and call the dentist.
At least I’m not the only one. I have a friend who swears she would rather get her wisdom teeth removed than go to the gynecologist. I think she’s crazy. She thinks I’m crazy. We’re both right. So what about you guys? Come on, spill your bizarre phobias. Give me something entertaining to read while I’m procrastinating re: calling the dentist.
Posted by Beth at 3:01 AM | Comments (6)
Comments
I'm with you on the dental-phobia... I too need to call and schedule an appointment. And yet, I haven't. Hopefully I will do so before my teeth actually fall out of my head...
I kind of have a gynecologist phobia too, though it's not nearly as bad as the dental phobia... but that's entirely the fault of the Nurse Practitioner with Really Long Acrylic Nails (NPRLAN). No, I'm not kidding, I totally wish I was.
I'm also afraid of Tom Cruise, snakes, spiders, certain kinds of dark and Monday mornings.
Posted by: laurenjharwood ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at May 21, 2006 11:57 AM
Oh, I hear you. I used to be good with dentists too. And I did the orthodontia thing. And then? Bad experience with a sadistic dentist. I was nervous *before* then. Now? I had a prescription for valium once, because I burst into tears just *talking* about what needed to be done with my teeth. I have come close to my one and only panic attack in the dentist's chair.
So I feel your pain. *raises fist in solidarity*
Posted by: Sara Dennis at May 21, 2006 1:10 PM
hey beth,
Im with you with the dentist phobia. I have been needing to get my wisdom teeth pulled for the last 2 yrs, but done it cause im scared to death of it!
good luck with the dentist!
britt
Posted by: brittney at May 21, 2006 3:52 PM
hey beth,
Im with you with the dentist phobia. I have been needing to get my wisdom teeth pulled for the last 2 yrs, but done it cause im scared to death of it!
good luck with the dentist!
britt
Posted by: brittney at May 21, 2006 3:52 PM
Oh, Beth, my sister!
We had a mean childhood dentist that I sort of accidentally bit when I was seven or so. He proceeded to torture me for the next decade. It can take years to get past it.
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen at May 21, 2006 4:59 PM
My oldest daughter will NOT go to the dentist. She has gone exactly ONCE in her entire 14 1/2 years of life. This girl is absolutely phobic over doctors--she had ear surgery twice when she was little and she has been scared to death ever since. Her one visit to the dentist was when she was around 7 or 8. They put a protective coating on her back teeth, and she accidently moved her tongue and tasted the stuff--omg, the fight was on! Her little sister, myself, and the assistant had to hold her down in the chair so the dentist could finish the job! I can't even talk to her about it now, she bursts into tears, and this girl needs to have some dental work done--you know, teeth pulled, braces--the big stuff! My aunt keeps getting after me, but I can't do it. Both my daughter AND I would need Valium to go into that dentist's office--one look at her tears and I am a basket case myself and I can't do it to her... It's bad enough having your own phobias, but when you have to deal with a child's, it is even worse.
Me, I've never had a panic attack before until I had this surgery done and realized I couldn't take the dressing off of my arm/hand for two weeks! Xanax became my new best friend until I finally talked them into putting a smaller, lighter dressing on my hand. Tomorrow I get the stitches out AND get rid of the dressing--I can hardly wait! It all ties into my severe claustrophobia, and I am already dreading the surgery on my other hand....
Posted by: Sheri at May 22, 2006 12:42 PM
