Y’know how some people fear doctors? OK, Snakelady fears dentists.
I had no problems with my teeth until my early 30s. Then I saw a dentist who said I should have my wisdom teeth removed. I had no pain. He said I had cysts, it could become a problem. After consulting several people, including my primary care physician who said the experience was so dreadful he’d had half his mouth done and didn’t plan to go back and do the others, I decided everyone else in the world was a big wuss. I had all four done at once. I got dry sockets. I’d never had tooth pain before. I was out of work, dizzy, and sweating from pain for days. I recommend wisdom tooth extraction highly for all self-respecting masochists.
I recently went a year and a half between dental visits. Note that I had no pain and no reason to see a dentist except for a cleaning. Hubby has regular cleanings. He flosses daily. He thinks my lack of dental concern is irresponsible. I think he’s cute.
So, I go to the dentist and they tell me three fillings, maybe a crown. I am flabbergasted. I agree to all and sundry procedures in the interests of pro-active health care. Note again that I had no pain.
They do the two fillings and then a month ago while drilling for the third find a crack goes too far for a filling. I tell a co-worker I’m a princess, I have to take an afternoon off for my crown.
I had my seventh visit over this crown today.
The first several visits were semi-normal. They made an error and had to have the crown sent back to the lab so that required an extra visit. The last few have been my fault. I try to be conciliatory. I agree hastily to the question: Does that feel right? and bolt. And find myself back in his office three days later. Because it still hurts. After two weeks of round the clock anti-inflammatories I finally just gave them up. I still can’t chew on the one side of my mouth but as he’s said the last six visits, that should be better in a couple of days.
Today I had a Snakelady pep talk on my way to the dentist.
“I need to talk about something with you,” I tell the empty passenger seat.
“OK. What’s the issue?”
“I can’t get things sorted out with this crown and I can’t figure out if the problem is all me, part me, part them, or what, but I’m tired of going back and I want this resolved.”
“That sounds very frustrating. What can I do to help?”
“Well,” I say, “I’d like to role playing talking to the dentist.”
“I can help you with that. You want to start?”
“Sure. OK, let me think. For one thing it’s not working for me to be laying back in the chair when I’m trying to talk to him. I feel intimidated. I’m going to stand up.”
“That’s a good thing to identify.”
“OK, so starting from there, I’m going to be sitting up when I see him and I’m going to say: ‘Dr. M, I’m concerned about this taking so long. Is this normal? I’d like to get this resolved.'”
“You’ve had trouble saying this up til now?”
“Yes, I just smile and nod the whole time. I’m so anxious to get out of there I tell them it’s right before it is.”
“How has that worked out for you?”
“Not so well. Have I told you this is my seventh visit?”
“I think you’re going to do great.”
“Thanks, I’m kind of nervous.”
“You’re a great communicator, really able to ask for what you need. You must be great in relationships.”
“Thanks, I think so, too.”
Post appointment note: It’s still not cemented in. At this juncture I have decided to eat on just the one side of my mouth for the rest of my life.
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