Last week I went to the dentist for a routine 6 month checkup and cleaning. I say “routine” because that is what it is supposed to be, and that was my second one this year…how long does it take to make something routine? I think for most people, visiting the dentist is just a normal thing that needs to be done, mildly unpleasant but necessary. Nobody really likes doing it, but it isn’t a big deal. The fact that I went last week and it was only mildly unpleasant and not a big deal, is kind of a big deal.
Like many people I know, I have struggled with anxiety. It has presented itself in little ways and big ways throughout my life. One of the ways has been severe anxiety about doctors and dentists. I say severe because it was so bad for so long that I did not visit a doctor for over a decade, and only went to see a dentist when I literally could not avoid the problem (broken tooth).
As a child, I had a dentist who I found very gruff and unfriendly. I don’t know if he actually was gruff and unfriendly, or if that was just my perception of him. I was an extremely fearful child, so it is hard to say what was real and what I was overreacting to (though I suppose the point is that he was scary to me, therefore he was scary). I had to have a few fillings done over my childhood years and found those experiences to be quite traumatising. I remember one in particular when the dentist told me if I needed him to stop, if it was too much and I needed a break, to just put my hand up and he would stop. I put my hand up. He didn’t stop.
The fear and distrust continued into my adulthood. I remember having a toothache so bad that it kept me up at night. A filling breaking and having the jagged edge slicing into my tongue. These were literally the only reasons I could bring myself to see a dentist. And not without extreme anxiety. I wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, just from the fear of having to go.
In my late twenties I got married to a man who had some very troubling views on seeking medical or dental care. He felt that a person who was a christian should only trust God to heal them and should not rely on anything else. I remember his response when I challenged him on this one night. I was asking if he really believed that, and what if someone had an infection from an abscessed tooth - an actual life threatening situation. I said “what should they do?” His response? “What should they do? They should DIE.” This man literally said that if God “chose” not to heal this hypothetical person’s infection, that they should die rather than going to a dentist to address the problem. While I certainly never agreed with him (on this or a myriad of other things…perhaps that’s another blog for another day…), his attitude and lack of support for medical care became one more thing to avoid in order to keep the peace.
A few years after this ridiculous conversation, for a million reasons, I had packed up and left and was living on my own again (thank goodness). A filling in a tooth that I had already had quite a few problems with over the years had cracked and I hadn’t been to a dentist in quite a long time. I was absolutely terrified, but knew it needed to be dealt with. I also knew that I needed to have my wisdom teeth taken out to avoid future problems. I found a place that had good reviews and offered sedation dentistry. I figured this would be the solution to dealing with my anxiety; just knock me out for a while so I don’t have to be aware of what is going on. And this actually worked…until it didn’t.
I had to have multiple appointments to catch up on things - the broken filling, other minor fillings, and the wisdom teeth. It was too much to do in one go. The first two appointments went well and I was feeling good about my third and final one. It was going to be big - unfortunately I had to have a root canal done, along with the removal of my lower wisdom tooth on the same side. They would have two different dentists working on me - the same one who I had seen for my previous two appointments would remove my wisdom tooth, and a specialist would complete the root canal. Without going into too much unpleasant detail, the sedation wasn’t quite as effective as it had been before. I gained consciousness at a very inopportune time of the whole ordeal. To say that this was traumatising would be an understatement. And how do we respond to trauma? We retreat and avoid the thing at all costs!
My avoidance plan was going fine until…surprise, surprise… the filling on THE SAME FREAKING TOOTH broke. Again. This was just last year, right around the time I had decided to leave my contract teaching position. This would also mean that my benefits would change and soon, I would no longer have as much dental coverage as I did at that time. I knew I had to suck it up and deal with the fear. And I was on a deadline if I wanted to save some money before my benefits ran out.
I called the dentist’s office that was near the place I lived at the time. I told them before making the appointment about my awful experiences and how petrified I was about having to come. The lady I spoke to was incredibly kind and understanding. While this didn’t remove any of the fear, it was reassuring to feel like I might not be judged for being in my forties and being a giant baby about the dentist. I was so anxious I was nauseous and shaking, but I went to that appointment. The dentist was AMAZING. He was soooooo compassionate and patient. He determined exactly what needed to be done and I made an appointment to come back.
The plan was to try laughing gas and see if that would help calm my nerves and enable me to get the required work done. I was ready to give it a try, but as soon as that mask went over my mouth and I breathed in the gas, I started to panic. They removed the mask and I proceeded to have a pretty bad panic attack. It isn’t pleasant to admit, but I am also not ashamed or embarrassed. I was curled up in that dentist chair, crying, trying to calm myself down with deep breaths as my whole body shook. I don’t know exactly how long I was in that state, but I do know that the dentist and other staff reacted just as I needed them to. At no point was I treated like this was problematic or inconvenient. At no point did I feel judged. They gave me space but checked on me and offered me water, kleenex, a blanket.
Somehow, after all this, I made the decision to get the work done that same day. I managed to bring myself out of the panic and figured that I was there so I might as well just get it over with. It was very difficult for me, but I made it through. I did have to come back again to have a couple more small things dealt with, and I hadn’t had a cleaning in many years either. Each time I returned, my anxiety was a little smaller than the time before.
Though it feels a little silly to say, I am proud of myself for overcoming my fears. I take credit for that, but a great deal of the credit goes to my dentist and the staff for the way that they treated me. Each time I have gone, I have been met with kindness, understanding, and respect. This has built trust, to the point where I am actually fine to go to the dentist! This visit last week, while it wasn’t something I looked forward to, didn’t strike fear into my heart like it would have in the past. It also didn’t hurt that the hygienist I see was raving about how great my gums looked, or that she gave me a sticker when she made a joke and I said “no really, can I have a sticker?” : )
It makes me wonder about the other places anxiety appears in my life. How much of it could be overcome if it were met with the same things - patience, kindness, understanding, compassion? How can I be the one to offer those things to myself? Where can I offer it to others?
Much love,
Sara-Mae 💚