W
willow
Junior member
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2006
- Messages
- 11
I've been lurking here for a couple of weeks, but this is my first post. Yesterday I had my first dental appointment. Ever. I'm 30 years old.
When I was a child my parents never took me to the dentist, not even when I asked to be taken. (Can you imagine a 9-year-old child asking to go to the dentist?) By the time I was 13, three of my molars had crumbled to the gumline. I also have an underbite which has caused some serious orthodontic issues. As a result, I learned to smile with my mouth closed. When I became an adult, I couldn't contemplate going to the dentist because of extreme embarrassment and shame over the state of my mouth. Not a day has gone by since I was that 9-year-old that I haven't despaired over my teeth. It's amazing how that feeling can rule one's life.
Over the past several years my husband has tried to talk to me about my teeth a few times, but I always shut down whenever he brought up the subject. The man has beautiful teeth. How could he possibly understand? Besides, I haven't been in pain in many years. It's easy to ignore the problem when the problem isn't physically hurting me! Well, I've developed a sizable cavity on my top front incisor, and a couple of weeks ago he mentioned it to me. (Little did he know about all the cavities in the back of my mouth!) I panicked because I knew I couldn't ignore my mouth any longer. That's when I found this forum.
A week later my husband asked if I had made a dental appointment. All I could say was that I was trying to work up the courage. It was as if a light went on in his eyes. He asked, "Are you afraid of the dentist?" I finally told him everything—everything I'd never been able to tell to another soul. Before that moment I never thought I'd be able to say the words "I've never been to a dentist" to anyone. My husband was sooo understanding! Instead of barraging me with questions as I had half-expected him to do, he just accepted everything I said and was completely nonjudgmental. He told me the only thing that matters is getting my mouth sorted out. The words "money is no object" even escaped his lips.
My husband made an appointment for me to talk to his dentist. I only had three days to mentally prepare for the ordeal, which was probably just as well. What mortified me the most was the thought of opening my mouth for a complete stranger. How could I do it? Good grief, I can barely stand to look in there myself! At the same time, I knew I wanted to be able to do that at the first appointment.
Well, yesterday was D-Day. The dental assistant who collected me from the waiting room asked if I wanted to try to do x-rays first. I decided to try it. First she did the panoramic x-ray. That was easy! All I had to do was stand there. Then she tried doing bitewings, but that's when my courage failed. I would have to open my mouth, after all. She was very nice and said bitewings weren't necessary yet and that it was great that I got through one x-ray.
She led my husband and me to the exam room where we had to wait about 15 minutes for the dentist to arrive. The dental assistant made pleasant small talk during that time, which helped me control my nervousness. It was clear that she really enjoys working there. Finally the dentist arrived. He said he understood I was nervous, and then he launched into a speech about how he and I would be partners in my dental care. I suspect he gives this speech to all his new patients. He didn't seem terribly empathetic, but he did emphasize that he would be working for me and that things could move at my pace.
After the speech he asked if he could look in my mouth and count my teeth. Ha! That's when I almost broke down. But my husband held my hand, I took a few deep breaths, and I laid back in the chair. Listening to him rattle off all the information about my teeth was a little unnerving, but also sort of interesting. Apparently I'm missing (congenitally) my top lateral incisors! Who knew?
When he finished the count, he showed me my x-ray and talked about what needed to be done. He said I needed "a few" (i.e., many) fillings, the root tips of my old decayed molars "popped out," and probably one wisdom tooth extracted. I couldn't believe it! That was all? I was completely prepared for talk of root canals and crowns. Still, he might have been trying not to scare me. He assured me that he has many patients who need more work than I do, and the dental assistant even said she'd had more work done than I need. The dentist's attitude gave me the sense that all of this was no big deal, and that helped ease my mind.
I have another appointment in two weeks for a cleaning and those dreaded bitewings. Ugh, I'll have to open my mouth for another person: the hygienist. But I feel much more confident now in my ability to get through it. At that appointment the dentist will have a better idea of what needs to be done, and we'll be able to prioritize the procedures. Thankfully, I'm not needle-phobic like my husband is, and the prospect of fillings and extractions doesn't scare me that much. Not that I'm looking forward to them, mind you! In an odd way, I'm morbidly curious about the procedures.
I know I've got a long road ahead of me. Once I get all the general dental problems taken care of, I'll need to go for orthodontic treatment. Strangely, I'm actually excited about the prospect of wearing braces. Just call me Metal Mouth.
Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who has posted about their experiences on this forum. I don't know if I ever would have been able to walk through the door of the dentist's office if I hadn't read all your inspiring stories. It's such a comfort to know I'm not alone.
When I was a child my parents never took me to the dentist, not even when I asked to be taken. (Can you imagine a 9-year-old child asking to go to the dentist?) By the time I was 13, three of my molars had crumbled to the gumline. I also have an underbite which has caused some serious orthodontic issues. As a result, I learned to smile with my mouth closed. When I became an adult, I couldn't contemplate going to the dentist because of extreme embarrassment and shame over the state of my mouth. Not a day has gone by since I was that 9-year-old that I haven't despaired over my teeth. It's amazing how that feeling can rule one's life.
Over the past several years my husband has tried to talk to me about my teeth a few times, but I always shut down whenever he brought up the subject. The man has beautiful teeth. How could he possibly understand? Besides, I haven't been in pain in many years. It's easy to ignore the problem when the problem isn't physically hurting me! Well, I've developed a sizable cavity on my top front incisor, and a couple of weeks ago he mentioned it to me. (Little did he know about all the cavities in the back of my mouth!) I panicked because I knew I couldn't ignore my mouth any longer. That's when I found this forum.
A week later my husband asked if I had made a dental appointment. All I could say was that I was trying to work up the courage. It was as if a light went on in his eyes. He asked, "Are you afraid of the dentist?" I finally told him everything—everything I'd never been able to tell to another soul. Before that moment I never thought I'd be able to say the words "I've never been to a dentist" to anyone. My husband was sooo understanding! Instead of barraging me with questions as I had half-expected him to do, he just accepted everything I said and was completely nonjudgmental. He told me the only thing that matters is getting my mouth sorted out. The words "money is no object" even escaped his lips.
My husband made an appointment for me to talk to his dentist. I only had three days to mentally prepare for the ordeal, which was probably just as well. What mortified me the most was the thought of opening my mouth for a complete stranger. How could I do it? Good grief, I can barely stand to look in there myself! At the same time, I knew I wanted to be able to do that at the first appointment.
Well, yesterday was D-Day. The dental assistant who collected me from the waiting room asked if I wanted to try to do x-rays first. I decided to try it. First she did the panoramic x-ray. That was easy! All I had to do was stand there. Then she tried doing bitewings, but that's when my courage failed. I would have to open my mouth, after all. She was very nice and said bitewings weren't necessary yet and that it was great that I got through one x-ray.
She led my husband and me to the exam room where we had to wait about 15 minutes for the dentist to arrive. The dental assistant made pleasant small talk during that time, which helped me control my nervousness. It was clear that she really enjoys working there. Finally the dentist arrived. He said he understood I was nervous, and then he launched into a speech about how he and I would be partners in my dental care. I suspect he gives this speech to all his new patients. He didn't seem terribly empathetic, but he did emphasize that he would be working for me and that things could move at my pace.
After the speech he asked if he could look in my mouth and count my teeth. Ha! That's when I almost broke down. But my husband held my hand, I took a few deep breaths, and I laid back in the chair. Listening to him rattle off all the information about my teeth was a little unnerving, but also sort of interesting. Apparently I'm missing (congenitally) my top lateral incisors! Who knew?
When he finished the count, he showed me my x-ray and talked about what needed to be done. He said I needed "a few" (i.e., many) fillings, the root tips of my old decayed molars "popped out," and probably one wisdom tooth extracted. I couldn't believe it! That was all? I was completely prepared for talk of root canals and crowns. Still, he might have been trying not to scare me. He assured me that he has many patients who need more work than I do, and the dental assistant even said she'd had more work done than I need. The dentist's attitude gave me the sense that all of this was no big deal, and that helped ease my mind.
I have another appointment in two weeks for a cleaning and those dreaded bitewings. Ugh, I'll have to open my mouth for another person: the hygienist. But I feel much more confident now in my ability to get through it. At that appointment the dentist will have a better idea of what needs to be done, and we'll be able to prioritize the procedures. Thankfully, I'm not needle-phobic like my husband is, and the prospect of fillings and extractions doesn't scare me that much. Not that I'm looking forward to them, mind you! In an odd way, I'm morbidly curious about the procedures.
I know I've got a long road ahead of me. Once I get all the general dental problems taken care of, I'll need to go for orthodontic treatment. Strangely, I'm actually excited about the prospect of wearing braces. Just call me Metal Mouth.
Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who has posted about their experiences on this forum. I don't know if I ever would have been able to walk through the door of the dentist's office if I hadn't read all your inspiring stories. It's such a comfort to know I'm not alone.