I know there are a lot of people who have a fear of the dentist, but somehow I feel like my fear of the dentist is different. I mean, first of all, your fear is probably ridiculous, and my fear is real, because it’s mine. (Don’t we all feel that way, if we’re being honest? I’m just saying.)
Anyway, I feel like some people are afraid of the dentist because they’re afraid of pain, or of something awful happening to them, like maybe they’ll be put under anesthesia and never wake up or something.
I actually have very little fear of death at the dentist’s office. None, really. What’s really frightening to me is being in the room with a lot of people with really nice teeth. Death seems relatively minor in comparison.
I know this stems from many childhood issues, none of which I have actually explored with a therapist but instead I’m just going to explore them right now while I’m trying to fall asleep but can’t. I feel like that’s probably the healthiest way to address this.
In my mind, everyone else in the world grew up going to the dentist every six months, like clockwork, and you have always known things about fillings and root canals and x-rays, and—what are those other things called—regular cleanings?
I didn’t grow up doing any of those things, mainly because I come from a long line of white trash and we just didn’t spend money on things like that. I don’t think I ever remember having health insurance, so probably we were just being practical. You didn’t go get your teeth looked at unless your teeth were in pain, or otherwise not serving their purpose for existing, just like you didn’t go buy a sandwich unless you were hungry. Duh.
Besides, the few times I’ve been to the dentist as an adult, they’ve cleaned my teeth and told me I didn’t have any cavities. So probably I just have strong teeth like some people have strong immune systems because they got exposed to germs from an early age. That makes zero sense, but I just thought of it just this second, so I’m gonna have to work out the science on that later.
It could also be that I’m afraid of the dentist because my Grandma was the only person I ever knew that actually went to the dentist on a regular basis, and Grandma had no teeth and she had to wear dentures. So there’s that, right? Maybe I subconsciously believed that going to the dentist actually caused you to lose your teeth, and I sure as hell didn’t want that.
If you think about it, the truth is, the further you stay away from the dentist, the less likely it is that you get your teeth pulled, and that’s a fact. I don’t actually know anyone that’s had a tooth pulled by someone other than a dentist, do you?
Anyway, last week a piece of my tooth fell off, and there’s a gray spot going on back there, and I think that means I have my first cavity. Or at least the first cavity I’ve had since the last time I had my mouth looked at, which was definitely sometime during the Obama administration but I’m not saying which term.
And now I have to go to the dentist’s office, and people with beautiful teeth will smile at me and be nice to me and tell me that everything is okay and that they’re totally not judging me for that whole crooked bottom row, not to mention my pre-President Trump plaque buildup—but we all know that’s a lie.
I’d definitely rather get my nose cut off again. This is stressful.
