I’m having some dental work done this week.
A word of silence, please.
I’m dreading the dental chair. I wrote the following as a guest post last year, but I thought you might like to read it, considering my current frame of mind.
Also, I can’t type well when I grind my teeth:
I found a new dentist for my kids. He’s nice and his office staff is friendly and helpful. It’s a family dentistry practice. So, he treats kids and adults.
There’s a children’s waiting room with video games and toys. I have to force my children to play.
My husband liked the office so much, he became a patient.
That’s nice. I wish I could.
Oh, I like everything about the dentist’s office. But I can’t join the rest of the family.
Why? My teeth have a low self-esteem.
It’s true. You might see me smile and think my teeth look nice. And, on the surface, you are right. But I have deep-seeded teeth issues.
As a child I was always the one with a cavity. My siblings would get their photos posted on the bulletin board because their teeth were perfect. Stupid bulletin board.
I didn’t lose my baby teeth either. So, in order for the tooth fairy to visit me, I had to have my teeth pulled at the dentist’s office. I remember once I had 8 teeth pulled in one day. There must have been a ‘pull one, get one free’ deal.
I brushed, flossed. It didn’t matter. I got braces and went through dental torture in my teen years. I wore a metal head gear to Jr. high.
I wish I was kidding.
So all of these factors probably contribute to my teeth feeling so inadequate.
I’d really like to change dentists.
But I won’t. I feel comfortable at my current dentist and that is saying a lot, considering my history. His office is dingy. He is old and doesn’t have any of the new equipment. His office staff is rude. It’s inconvenient and it’s hard to get an appointment.
And, there’s a bonus. He smokes. Yes, my dentist is a smoker.
So, when he takes a peek at my pearly whites, and moves in for a close up, I get quite a whiff. This makes me happy. I mean, my olfactory senses are offended, but my teeth?
They feel right at home.
I scoured the city for a crummy dentist. I feel comfortable opening my mouth and revealing my giant fillings and my splotchy teeth. I know he won’t expect much when he takes a look because between you and me, his teeth are nasty. We belong together.
The other day my hubby was raving about the ‘family dentist.’ Hello? Can he really be called the ‘family dentist’ when not all the family attends? He was encouraging me to switch. But I’ve seen his dentist. I’ve watched him work on my children’s teeth. He’s young. He’s handsome. And his teeth are beautiful.
I’d feel like such a tooth failure if I sat in his dental chair. One look in my mouth would tell him of my sad dental past.
When my current dentist looks into my mouth, do you know what he says?
“It looks good, I don’t see a thing wrong,” and he means it. He doesn’t want to change a darn thing.
How about you? Do you fear the chair?