All throughout my life I’ve never had any problems with this biennial visit. Usually, especially when I was younger, it was a family trip. When I grew older, it became a quite convenient escape in between school hours. If possible, I tried to bend the rules and took more time than necessary for my visit. I just spent some more time reading magazines in the waiting room, not even disturbed by all the drilling sounds for one bit.
One day that happy feeling was just crushed, torn and scattered. It was the day Mr. Dentist decided to take out my wisdom teeth. Oh My God. I’ve never experienced such a disastrous, painful moment. From that day on I could completely relate to all those people whom suffer from a dentist anxiety. Suddenly I hated and feared the man who used to give me funny toothbrushes and colourful toothpaste. He caused me an awful lot of pain, during the operation itself and the following days. How could I return, voluntarily?
So, it may not come as a surprise; I haven’t visited Mr. Dentist for the last couple of years. There were two attempts after the wisdom teeth drama, and they weren’t very successful. The first time I almost fainted in the waiting room, the second attempt I took a tranquilizer to even make it to the dentist chair but it didn’t prevent me from fleeing out of the room when Mr. Dentist made his appearance.
But after these dentist free years worry came upon me. What if my teeth were messed up for good? That I waited too long with my biennial check-ups, that all dentists would have given up on my teeth? Imagine all the root canal treatments that would lie ahead of me… I had to do something about my dental phobia, right about now!
My Love looked up some dentist devils in the yellow pages and picked one randomly. This new dentist could be visited even during the weekend, so yay, let’s make it into a weekend activity! The first appointment was a dual one, my Love had to pay a visit as well for his check-up. Which was a good thing; I needed someone to force me into the dental office…
My new Mr. Dentist turned out to be a Mrs. Dentist. And Mrs. Dentist turned out to be the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Stepping foot again in a dental office was a big emotional leap, resulting in a big cry in the dental chair. But Mrs. Dentist held my hand, told me not to worry and acted really nice. Even the fact that she had pretty bad news about my dental state seemed to be less important; four teeth were affected by dental caries (yup, I had not one, not two, nor three, but FOUR holes in my teeth). And my two remaining wisdom teeth had to be removed.
Oh well, after Mrs. Dentist told me she herself suffered from dental phobia, my worries vanished into thin air. Mrs. Dentist knew exactly how the handle frightened patients; with care of course! The following weeks I visited her several times and she filled the holes in my teeth and my nerves didn’t bother me. At all! Happy times at the dentist have made a big return in my life, so it seems. All I have to do now? Uhm, make an appointment with the oral surgeon at the hospital. To get my wisdom teeth out… Luckily Mrs. Dentist referred me to her Sister Dentist. Hopefully the kindness runs in this Dentist family!
Want more Chifff? See www.chifff.com!