dentistry and distraction

I have always liked my dentists, even my endodontist is great! (For those of you who have never had the pleasure, an endodontist is the special guy/gal who gets to perform root canals). Each one has been friendly, feeling more like a friend than an acquaintance. But I certainly do not like their job. I know it is an important job, an extremely valuable job, but I do not like it. If you've ever seen the inside of my mouth, you'd understand.

(I know, not the most attractive picture,
but these are the teeth I was blessed with - no braces.)

You know how Paul had a thorn in his flesh? My teeth are my thorn.

I can even remember as a 2nd grader losing a partial filling on a baby tooth because I had gnawed off the head of one of those sticky red cinnamon bears. It was replaced with a silver cap. (Imagine the tooth fairy's surprise when it fell out!) I remember another time when I was approximately middle school aged, coming out of the dentist with the news of needing 9 fillings. WHAT?! Are you KIDDING me?! (How come no one told me that cavities could form in between the teeth? I might have taken flossing a bit more seriously!) Then when it was time to pull my wisdom teeth, my amazing dentist did the work for me. Now, mind you, he did this as a huge favor to save my parents some money because we did not have dental insurance. And I have never held it against anyone because I knew it was necessary, BUT the only anesthesia that I was given for the pulling of four wisdom teeth was local. That's right, lots of needles, but awake the entire crunching time. (I take a little pride in surviving that one.) I have had 3 root canals with crowns. Those are my best looking teeth, especially the gold one (gave myself a little bling, I did!)

I had a dentist appointment today. To repair a cracked filling that had a cavity forming beneath it. Why, oh why can these fillings not last until I die? Somedays I think I would just like all my teeth pulled so that I can wear dentures the rest of my life and not have to worry about fillings, root canals, crowns, and all that stuff. My dentist just shakes her head at me and says, "No, you wouldn't want that!" I'm not sure why I wouldn't. They would be nice and straight and white and I could take them out and scare little kids - that'd be fun, right?! Anyway, the numbing alone took an hour. My stinkin' mouth does not cooperate with the whole numbing process.

Today's gift of survival: I have found a number of ways to make this whole dentistry process work a little better for me. First of all, my current dentist is about 4 minutes away from my house. This means that I don't have the anxiety of a 30 minute drive, waiting in the waiting room, and then waiting in the chair. That used to kill me!

I bring mindless stuff to do - crossword puzzles, magazines that have good pictures, nothing too in-depth to read, and my do-almost-everything phone has made that even better! Pretty much, I like having something mindless to do that keeps my mind off of what I am waiting to have done.

I like to have the dentist or endodontist explain what they are doing. It keeps my mind busy and distracted from feeling the things in my mouth. Plus, I find it kind of interesting. I often keep something in my hands to fiddle with too. The pianist in me taps out rhythm to whatever music is playing on the sound system. Anything to keep my focus away from my fears.

I have found in the worst of all my dentistry struggles, I pray. Simple as that. I pray for myself, because I need the prayer (I am in the dentist chair, after all). I pray for my husband and kiddos. I pray for anyone and anything I can think of to pray for. Sometimes I get distracted from my praying because something falls back into my throat (I HATE that!) or my dentist asks me a question or whatever I'm praying about leads me on some thought tangent that is really more thinking to myself than praying (I know you've done that; don't deny it). But when I am praying, I am focusing on something more important that the mess that is in my mouth. When my mouth is good to go again, I have accomplished much more than surviving another trip to the dentist.

Today, I survived the dentist. Oh the relief when the paper bib comes off and I am done! When I leave the office, I always thank the ladies and tell them I hope to not see them again for quite some time, no matter how nice they are.