overcoming | fear of dentists

Today marked another important step on my journey to overcoming fear. My fear of the dentist started when I was young--a byproduct of being too poor and not connected enough to know that there were options regarding which dentist we could see. Growing up, "dentist" to me equaled random hard-to-understand man who came in to do his duty, spoke harshly, caused me lots of pain, and then went into the "back," never to be seen again. And the dentist office from the outside resembled any other flashy chain store, like Ross, Sears or Dollar Tree. I never realized that the dentist could be someone with whom you developed a workable relationship and *gasp* might even look forward to seeing from time to time.

Anyway, all that meant was that I got used to hearing bad news every time I went (which was maybe once/year), and all I could ever think of was those needles and the way they kept going even when I raised my hand to tell them it hurt, like they told me to. That fear has gotten me nowhere but here---in need of 3+ root canals and a host of fillings to mend the problem-ridden teeth I've gotten used to. I remember one dentist told me when I was in college, that I must "eat lots of candies" and another said that my teeth seem "very susceptible" to cavities.

On the one hand are the numerous real-life horror stories I've had in dentists offices: from having my 2 front teeth pulled at age 4 because they'd turned brown, to receiving 14 shots to perform 6 fillings in one visit when I was in middle school, to being shown the stringy, bloody mass that was a hard-to-extract wisdom tooth. Then on the other hand, I have horrid, recurring dreams about my teeth crumbling in my hands, breaking into jagged pieces in my mouth, me spitting the shards out piece by piece. Couple these two together and a visit to the dentist represents the real life manifestation of a nightmare. Or the nightmarish manifestation of my previous reality.

Alas! God is good. Today, I had my second root canal as a full-grown adult. And I didn't cry one bit. Dr. Fong was so great. Explained procedure along the way, spoke softly, numbed me well. It went so great, I was even texting mid-procedure, as I waited for "chemicals" to penetrate. Even snapped a self-portrait and sent it over to my lil sis...now THAT's progress.

I sat in that chair and was just overcome with thanks, though. To be able to listen to that drill, smell the strange burning, then the potent chlorine-containing substances, feel the vibrations, all of it...and still feel relaxed? All God.

Just so happened to have my daughter's teething rings in my sweater pocket. Kept fingering that as a reminder of my need and desire to be strong. Also made a promise to myself that I will do right by her in the way of her dental hygiene so that she will never end up with the kinds of nightmares* I've been known to have.

I'm actually looking forward to going back and developing/continuing my doctor-patient relationship with my very own great dentist. He even called me this evening to see how I was doing. Now, that's health care!