The Dentist
Dear lord, I actually did it. I made a dentist's appointment.
I haven't been to the dentist in ten years, apart from the wisdom teeth removal in college. That was ok, because they put me under.
I've been through some crap in my life, so not much scares me anymore. I've learned loads about fear and what it means. I've had four tattoos willingly. I've had two kids by cesarean, and the most recent kid left me with an incision that opened twice and mastitis twice (and I did not quit breastfeeding even when my nipples bled). I'm not really that much of a wimp when it comes to pain.
And yet, for years even the "thought" of the dentist sent chills down my spine. I hate being so cliche, but there it is. As a result my teeth are a total disaster area--at least three have broken and I'm in constant pain. You would think that would have sent me in, but no, I learned to live with it rather than face my fear. I'm not the kind of person who runs from scary things, except in this one case. Even my husband didn't know how bad it was, because I was embarrassed to be so wimpy. Luckily, all the damage is in the back, not visible. From the front, my teeth are near perfect, white and straight. Always have been.
Now, one tooth has gotten so bad it is cutting into my tongue. That hurts, and somehow was the catalyst that got me on the phone, finally. I made an emergency appointment--not so much because I can't wait, but because I know that the sooner I get in and experience it, the less I'll be able to build up the fear and panic in my mind.
For now I focus on the positive--if I get them fixed, no more pain! No more carefully chewing to avoid the bad spots, no more extreme sensitivity to temperature changes in food (can't eat hot food then drink a cold drink, ouch). I'll be able to be proud of myself for conquering one last childish fear, and for braving the pain. And I'll be practicing the self care I'm always telling others about. Can't be a hypocrite, after all. And writing here kind of keeps me honest, coming out of the dental work closet, so to speak.
Sigh, it may not be sexy but at least I'll get writing fodder out of it, right? And if it's really bad, I'll have an excuse to do nothing but sit and write all day.
I haven't been to the dentist in ten years, apart from the wisdom teeth removal in college. That was ok, because they put me under.
I've been through some crap in my life, so not much scares me anymore. I've learned loads about fear and what it means. I've had four tattoos willingly. I've had two kids by cesarean, and the most recent kid left me with an incision that opened twice and mastitis twice (and I did not quit breastfeeding even when my nipples bled). I'm not really that much of a wimp when it comes to pain.
And yet, for years even the "thought" of the dentist sent chills down my spine. I hate being so cliche, but there it is. As a result my teeth are a total disaster area--at least three have broken and I'm in constant pain. You would think that would have sent me in, but no, I learned to live with it rather than face my fear. I'm not the kind of person who runs from scary things, except in this one case. Even my husband didn't know how bad it was, because I was embarrassed to be so wimpy. Luckily, all the damage is in the back, not visible. From the front, my teeth are near perfect, white and straight. Always have been.
Now, one tooth has gotten so bad it is cutting into my tongue. That hurts, and somehow was the catalyst that got me on the phone, finally. I made an emergency appointment--not so much because I can't wait, but because I know that the sooner I get in and experience it, the less I'll be able to build up the fear and panic in my mind.
For now I focus on the positive--if I get them fixed, no more pain! No more carefully chewing to avoid the bad spots, no more extreme sensitivity to temperature changes in food (can't eat hot food then drink a cold drink, ouch). I'll be able to be proud of myself for conquering one last childish fear, and for braving the pain. And I'll be practicing the self care I'm always telling others about. Can't be a hypocrite, after all. And writing here kind of keeps me honest, coming out of the dental work closet, so to speak.
Sigh, it may not be sexy but at least I'll get writing fodder out of it, right? And if it's really bad, I'll have an excuse to do nothing but sit and write all day.
posted by Amelia June @ 12/07/2005 08:32:00 AM
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