In The Powder Room

Apr 28

A Royal Affair

Comments (7) by Sandra Staas April 28, 2010 - 6:02 AM

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Have you ever postponed doing something for fifteen years? I have.

I'm scared of dentists. I have never liked lying prostrate with a wonderful view up their nostrils. That shows how long ago it's been. Nowadays they wear a mask. Plus, so many mistakes and blunders were made in my mouth that in the end I decided to go it alone. No dentists. Just self-care.

The inevitable occurred recently. A tooth broke. To be honest, some of the filling had already fallen out a couple of years ago but I was in the land of denial. Maybe if I took more calcium pills the tooth would get stronger? Maybe if I used mouthwash six times a day that would help?

I think I must have swallowed the part that broke off. That's a cheery thought: Pizza with red wine and tooth.

My legs weren't really shaking when I sat in the dentist's waiting room. It must have been the chair that was wobbling. I gazed at one magazine, then another, then I looked at everyone else to see if they were scared like me. Nope. They actually smiled. God. Who smiles at the dentist's? Not me. I told myself that I'd had dental work before and had survived, that when the pain gets going, the going gets pain. I was rambling to myself, on the verge of hysteria, ready to bolt out the door. My name was called.

The dental hygienist smiled. Can't stand those people who smile, especially when I'm about to be tortured. I collapsed into the chair.

‘Let me see your broken tooth.' She spoke to me as if I were a child. I wanted to act like one by refusing to open my mouth. But big brave me let her have a look.

‘We'll take an X-ray.'

‘Won't that hurt?'

‘No.'

"Maybe I should get Novocain?"

‘No need.'

‘But the dentist is going to scrape and poke.'

‘It will be all right.'

I let her take the X-ray. Almost threw up in the process. But it wasn't painful.

Sir Galahad, the dentist appeared suddenly in front of me as the chair was lowered and I lay prostrate, vulnerable as a chicken about to get its head chopped off.

I was pleasantly surprised not to see up his nostrils for he was wearing a large mask.

‘How are you?'

‘Errrr.' I couldn't answer. I was trembling so much. Every cell in my body was shaking.

‘I've had horrible things happen to my mouth.' There, it was out. I blabbered on, relating to him the long list of dental mishaps that had resulted in my staying away from a dentist for fifteen years.

‘You're in good hands now. May I take a peek at the broken tooth?'

‘You can look, but you can't touch.' I actually said that to him!

‘Hmm. Quite a chunk of tooth has gone. Most of the filling is there, but the tooth‘s basically gone.'

Even I knew that. Duh.

‘We're going to have to put a crown on it.'

A royal tooth?

‘Won't it hurt?'

‘We'll make you as comfortable as possible.'

That doesn't answer the question, buster.

I returned two days later to get the tooth prepared for a crown. Novocain, my favourite friend of daring dental dalliances came to the rescue. I was actually feeling confident as I lay there, staring at the blank ceiling. I tried to ignore the different drills he used, and that horrible sound of raw nerves being punctured. Suddenly there was an excruciating sharp pain. I raised my hand. He asked what was wrong.

What do you think is wrong? It hurts!

He injected more Novocain and continued. One hour later I had a temporary crown placed on top of my once-broken tooth. My royal molar.

I was dying to pee. But I had been lying there so long I could hardly get up. Fortunately the hygienist pressed the button and the chair raised itself. I fled to the bathroom mumbling a plethora of thank you's on the way out.

So no more postponements. I have to go back in a couple of weeks to get the permanent crown. They assure me I won't need Novocain. Says who? I just know the dentist will scrape and poke and prod. He even told me I'll probably need three more crowns on the lower jaw. He was a bit too smug when he said that. It's not that I have a real phobia. Well maybe a teeny tiny one. I'm just plain petrified, undeniably out of my mind and living in a state of denial. Maybe I could double up on those calcium pills? Maybe I could use more mouthwash? After all, that worked for fifteen years. Maybe I can postpone the other crowns - at least until I break another tooth.

by Sandra Staas April 28, 2010 - 6:02 AM

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  Report Fri May 7, 2010 - 8:15 pm

  by  Sandra Staas

  Hi. Thank you for your comments. I get butterflies just thinking about that chair. I'm going in June to have two bridges replaced. Oh no!! Next year, I'll get work done on the lower jaw. Right now, that's going to be three crowns. By the time I'm done with all this dental work I might be really brave, or, at least, not so scared, or... something.

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  Report Thu Apr 29, 2010 - 10:44 am

  by  DJ Kirkby

  Ah gawd I'm with you on this one! I got to the point where I had to start seeing a private dentist as I couldn't cope with a different NHS dentist every time. It has helped a teensy tiny bit but I still shake like I've got Parkinsons when I'm in that chair....

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  Report Thu Apr 29, 2010 - 3:53 am

  by  TraciO

  You did well. Congratulations on facing your fear and caring for yourself. My Mom and Dad both don't like dentists and as a result, my father had to have the few remaining teeth in his head pulled and he has dentures. My Mom still hasn't done anything about it. I'd love to see her smile fully again.

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  Report Thu Apr 29, 2010 - 2:05 am

  by  Eleanor Patrick

  My dentist's first consulting room had wonderful patterns painted on the ceiling. I was eternally grateful for the distraction. His current room has a white ceiling but I'm better at going there these days. I mean, there isn't that much left to go wrong in my mouth!

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  Report Wed Apr 28, 2010 - 8:02 pm

  by  Toni

  Many dentists can write prescriptions. Ask him to give you some Xanax or something similar to take the edge off the anxiety. I try to think of my dental visits as similar to childbirth. It's not pleasant, it will end at some point, and it probably won't kill you. Just something to be endured.

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  Report Wed Apr 28, 2010 - 1:42 pm

  by  Tracey Schmidt

  Both my husband and I had a gap of around 13 years between dentist visits too. (A bit of post-wisdom tooth extraction paranoia in my case.) Naturally it's not as bad as it used to be, and I've been several times now (even had one more wisdom tooth removed fairly painlessly). But I have to say I've not had a checkup in a while, even though I've been very diligent about taking the kids. Now you've reminded me that I really should go. (The pain in the wallet is also a big put-off.)

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  Report Wed Apr 28, 2010 - 1:09 pm

  by  Helen Redfern

  I can relate to this. I went a few weeks ago and was told I needed a filling. First time in my adult life. Well, by the time I was in there I was shaking so much. Almost as much as when I went to hosiptal to have my daughter. It wasn't that bad being worse in my imagination than it was in reality. I still needed a glass of wine after though.

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