I have Dentophobia. I don’t need an official diagnosis to know it’s true. The mere idea of going to the dentist makes me feel like crumpling into ashes, and I am not alone.
I am not afraid of the needles (I worry I won’t be numb enough when they start to drill, so I welcome the needles). I hate having my mouth open for long periods of time. I hate the sounds, the smells, having a virtual stranger glaring into my mouth. I hate when they wear glasses and I can see the reflection of my mouth in the lenses. I hate the chair, the music, the spitting, the bib, the x-rays where you have to bite down on the cardboard thingy. I hate how expensive it is. I hate being asked questions while my mouth is held open by something that looks like something I’ve seen at the OB/Gyn.
I fear being told my mouth is as bad as Sodom and Gomorrah and deserves to be destroyed. The dentist will spare me if she can find five good teeth. Alas, she can’t…run, top left incisor, run.
Today I confront this fear head-on. I am going to the dentist. Several months ago I broke a back molar whilst eating a slice of hubby’s homemade bread. All those years of my ice cube addiction finally caught up to me. Oddly, it didn’t hurt to break the tooth and it never gave me any problems, so I managed to forget it happened until the past few days when it decided to rekindle my memory. Ouch. Double-ouch. Triple-dog-ouch. Quadruple-torturous-ouch.
An ouch so ouchy it made me want to go to the dentist. Because of my pregnancy, they told me they can’t do any x-rays and they prefer not to do any work until the second trimester, but they will see how they can help me until then. I can’t imagine living the next 6.5 weeks exclusively chewing on the right side of my mouth and avoiding foods that are chilled or heated. That will leave me eating slices of Wonder Bread and bananas—not the best way to grow a baby.
I know I should have had the tooth taken care of months ago, before I became riddled with pain. Fear is powerful, but pain is more powerful. Now I have put myself in the position of not only compromising my health and well-being, but the health and well-being of the tiny baby inside me.
My phobia? Cured.
Geez Mopsy I had no idea you disliked going to the dentist so much…. considering our mom is a dental hygienist and 1/2 our family are/were dental laboratory specialists, I’m a bit surprised. The first thing mom does after greating us hello is look to see if we have healthy gums. I would have thought the two pounds of metal railing you had installed on your grill in high school might have gotten you used to exams… or maybe, that’s what pushed you over the edge… very interesting. Furthermore, I’m more afraid of hubby’s bread if it broke a tooth… isn’t bread supposed to be soft?
I just like giving you a hard time 😉 someone’s got to anyway.
Are you an anti-dentite? Seriously, sorry your hurting. No fun.
I guess you can’t use nitrous with the baby? It’s my favorite.
BTW, there’s a link to Toonces videos in the post that mentions him.
I can’t having anything IV, nitrous, or oral relaxants before my root canal. Only a local anesthetic.
I did see the Toonces videos! Juvenille, but classic!