Monday morning
I have always had a “thing” about dentists.
It stems from an early age when I had a right butcher who seemed to delight in pain.
I know about phobias. Some are rational but some aren’t (a fear of feathers?). Sadly my dentist phobia – which I claim to be entirely rational – developed over the years into a terror. I would rather let a tooth rot and fall out before facing a dentist. I know that’s daft but that’s just me.
I had my morning visit from my “team” earlier. They’re very happy with progress. They pulled at flaps of loose skin and peered into my face and pronounced satisfaction. I asked what was next on the agenda. Dental Hospital!
My little operation involved the removal of my nose. This also involves a certain amount of fucking around with the upper jaw which means that old dentures no longer fit. Speech and eating become problematic. This is where the dentist steps in. Well, he doesn’t actually step in but you know what I mean.
The team were a tad vague as to the work to be done but I think I heard mention of the removal of my remaining teeth (something to do with chemo?), the insert of screws or something and of course new permanent dentures. A lot of fucking work in the one area I hate work.
I suppose it has to be done. I suppose the sooner the better. I’m not looking forward to it.
My ultimate fear realised.
You have my thorough sympathies!
I had the butcher type as a child as well. I “forgot” for years after, until I had to have a treatment of an inflamed tooth which means: narcosis didn’t work. But it had to be done. From then on I was a phobic, didn’t go to a dentist for about 15 years – until someone told me of a dentist with a heart for phobics. From then on the phobia became better and better. It’s not gone, but much better.
Find yourself a dentist with a heart for phobics – it will help!
You’ll be good!
Modern dentists are a whole new breed. I have been (under duress) and they are patient, understanding and for the most part, painless. Sadly the fear is too ingrained. I know it is completely illogical but that’s just the way it is.
Except for a saber tooth right in front of you (or the modern pendant in form of a bus), fear is always irrational. That’s why it is so hard to deal with.
You could ask, if there is someone working with hypnosis – I’ve seen films of people who under hypnosis even were treated without any narcotics. I personally wouldn’t dare even think about that – but if you, with the help of a clinical hypnotist, can stay a bit more relaxed and calm, that would already be a great improvement.
A clinical hypnotist might also help you to work on those vivid horrid memories.
Those vivid horrible memories are only surfacing because I’m scribbling about them. My fault. I shall dream of more pleasant stuff, like having my nose sawed off……
Oh, much better indeed!
Grrrrggggg.
How about fantasizing as intense as you can about a nice place – one you know or one you would love to know. See it, feel wind, warmth / cold and so on, hear what is there to hear … make it up as you go along.
Helps relax. Helps getting rid of nasty pictures. Helps against boredom
There’s also a whole plethora on the interwebs for relaxation – pick and chose at your leisure.
😉
That is the only path to sanity in a hospital. Memories of France relived! Not the Interwebs though – too unreliable here.
True. But there’s also longwinding music / sounds for relaxation without some nitwit talking destroying the relaxing effect. 😉
In our youth, being of a similar age, many dentists had only recently been demobbed from military service, so were accustomed to treating hardened Desert Rats, sailors and airmen.
Let loose on young kids, often as ‘school dentists’, their empathy level and chairside manner was not entirely appropriate for this new audience. This may explain why many of us emerged with that same phobia.
My overriding memory is of large glass syringes and a drill that was all pulleys and noise. He also had a stomach that would gurgle incessantly in my ear. Vivid horrible memories!
My overriding memory used to be of a syringe with a narcotic being given, then the dentist turning around without waiting for it to work, and pulling the tooth.
What I don’t remember but have been told, was my screaming, and that my poor older brother didn’t know what to do to help me.
Bastard. The dentist, not the brother.
Damn it! Somehow you have just brought back a memory of a tooth being pulled with violent twisting and yanking.
I wish I had never started this little brainfart….
Oops. Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that – but a little bit of thinking wouldn’t have gone amiss to realize that this is exactly what would happen.
Really sorry.
Ha! No problem.
Well, there a dentists who are good, then those who are so ham fisted they shouldn’t be allowed to wield a shovel.
Sorry to hear about your continuing travails, and I hope your dental surgeon and anaesthetist turn out to be ones who cause you the least discomfort. God speed.
To be honest, I wish they would hurry up. Hopefully they can sort my two biggest problems at the moment – eating and speaking. Right now, I can’t do either properly and it’s pissing me off.
This is why God invented whiskey (The “e” is optional, just another drug.)
And in a circular argument (I am sure that there is fancy word for that.) Whisky is proof that there is a God.
Slainte.
Unfortunately I don’t have access to the water of life. Not at the moment anyway…
As others have said, dentists these days are so much better than in our youth, had many unpleasant experiences when I was younger.
It sounds like implants from the brief description, if so it’s quite a long procedure so you should (insist if not offered) be able to get sedated. Had all mine done in 2 sittings one for the top set and one for the bottom set, and don’t remember a single thing and zero pain afterwards which was very surprising.
You could be right about the work. Leastwise I can’t see how they could do all that’s needed in one sitting. Oh the joys that lie ahead!
My experience is much more positive with the hospital dentists over in Maxillofacial, than any of the gits I’ve had at surgery. I had a couple of lovely young lassies do mine, one of them was so petite she could have stood on my tongue and wrestled the teeth out!
That conjures up a rather nice, if a little disturbing image. Mind you don’t swallow?
I have a lady dentist who is stunningly attractive, and has an unpronouncable foreign name…
But who cares when the drilling isn’t the machine, it’s just those piercing blue eyes, staring down at my ageing face…
Sad!