A
Andria24
Junior member
- Joined
- May 25, 2010
- Messages
- 1
- Location
- Lisbon/Yorkshire
Hey to all. As per my title, I'm a new user. Had been looking on the web for some hints and advice re my incredibly bad fear and this site was right at the top of the page. I'm glad I checked the site out.
A little history - I'm relatively new to dental phobias.
Always had regular dental treatment. Never been overjoyed at dental visits, more a 'needs must' thing.
18 months ago, whilst in Lisbon, a back lower left wisdom infection flared up. I thought nothing of it at the time. Found a dentist in the city, was prescribed anti-biotics, return visit booked for the following week.
Returned for the consultation re 'what next?'. Explained that my infection hadn't completely gone. The dentist (native Portuguese one) said it was no matter - it needed to come out anyway. Not happy but hey - I wasn't the professional.
I pointed out that whatever, it wouldn't numb due to the infection. He convinced me I was wrong. Consequently he made me feel quite silly and so the extraction went ahead - no anaesthetic. He did try, I indicated it hadn't worked, he said 'let me at least put pressure on the tooth to see' kind of thing.
I let him - he simply initiated the extraction. Then followed some 40 or 45 minutes of utter agony. Turns out the wisdom tooth had a hooked root. He ended up having to split it and then proceeded to dig it out.
Halfway through he took a five minute break (!) as he was half shattered, and, it turns out, panicing that he wouldn't get the tooth out. By this time I was reduced to a mess and in shock.
He eventually dug it out, then had to insert stitches. Nice.
He told me afterward that in all his years of dentistry, he'd never had such a dreadful extraction. I surmised I was supposed to feel impressed with either his prowess at the fact he'd managed something he thought he wouldn't, or the fact that my extraction was at the top of his horror story list. Needless to say, I was a lot of other things - being impressed wasn't one of them.
Beyond the extraction, I was in agony for days. The lower half of my face swelled up, bruising appeared to the extent I looked like I'd been chinned on the jaw by Chris Eubanks and I've been left with an unshakable fear ever since.
Seven months ago, as a means of testing just how deeply seated my fear had developed, I managed to crack an upper molar whilst at a wedding. It was mostly filling, though a small piece of tooth also came away. Despite being at a wedding, I dissolved into floods of tears at the thought of a visit to a dentist.
Despite knowing it probably needs removing, the thought of seeing a dentist makes me vomit, no kidding.
Just writing this, I'm almost heaving. I'm hoping someone will say something that will at least allay my fears. Oh - and to boot my jaunting off to Portugal on a regular basis appears to have lost me my place with my UK dentist. Not the best of situations, despite my fear.
If anyone does get round to reading through my tome of desperation, please accept my thanks in advance
A little history - I'm relatively new to dental phobias.
Always had regular dental treatment. Never been overjoyed at dental visits, more a 'needs must' thing.
18 months ago, whilst in Lisbon, a back lower left wisdom infection flared up. I thought nothing of it at the time. Found a dentist in the city, was prescribed anti-biotics, return visit booked for the following week.
Returned for the consultation re 'what next?'. Explained that my infection hadn't completely gone. The dentist (native Portuguese one) said it was no matter - it needed to come out anyway. Not happy but hey - I wasn't the professional.
I pointed out that whatever, it wouldn't numb due to the infection. He convinced me I was wrong. Consequently he made me feel quite silly and so the extraction went ahead - no anaesthetic. He did try, I indicated it hadn't worked, he said 'let me at least put pressure on the tooth to see' kind of thing.
I let him - he simply initiated the extraction. Then followed some 40 or 45 minutes of utter agony. Turns out the wisdom tooth had a hooked root. He ended up having to split it and then proceeded to dig it out.
Halfway through he took a five minute break (!) as he was half shattered, and, it turns out, panicing that he wouldn't get the tooth out. By this time I was reduced to a mess and in shock.
He eventually dug it out, then had to insert stitches. Nice.
He told me afterward that in all his years of dentistry, he'd never had such a dreadful extraction. I surmised I was supposed to feel impressed with either his prowess at the fact he'd managed something he thought he wouldn't, or the fact that my extraction was at the top of his horror story list. Needless to say, I was a lot of other things - being impressed wasn't one of them.
Beyond the extraction, I was in agony for days. The lower half of my face swelled up, bruising appeared to the extent I looked like I'd been chinned on the jaw by Chris Eubanks and I've been left with an unshakable fear ever since.
Seven months ago, as a means of testing just how deeply seated my fear had developed, I managed to crack an upper molar whilst at a wedding. It was mostly filling, though a small piece of tooth also came away. Despite being at a wedding, I dissolved into floods of tears at the thought of a visit to a dentist.
Despite knowing it probably needs removing, the thought of seeing a dentist makes me vomit, no kidding.
Just writing this, I'm almost heaving. I'm hoping someone will say something that will at least allay my fears. Oh - and to boot my jaunting off to Portugal on a regular basis appears to have lost me my place with my UK dentist. Not the best of situations, despite my fear.
If anyone does get round to reading through my tome of desperation, please accept my thanks in advance
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