It’s True, Going To The Dentist Is Scary
I am lucky that my teeth look pretty good, considering. At best, professionals knew I should have had braces. At worst, if you put your head in my mouth, you would know I needed some work. (No one ever did that, obviously.)
My family was very poor. Not frugal, or budget-strict, but really, really poor. My mom was (well, I mean, is) a single, stubborn, depend-on-no-man type of woman (I wonder where I got that from?) with four kids. Now, as an adult, I have absolutely no idea how she did it. Groceries take a back seat sometimes in my very single life due to finances — I cannot imagine having four children on top of a very small income. Being raised poor, I have not had much exposure to financial responsibility. I’m $30,000 in debt, like most people with bachelor degrees, and I have stuff I’m paying off like most human beings, so going to any doctor is terrifying. My family did not go to the doctor or the dentist unless we absolutely had to go. My mother is kind of a hippie when it comes to modern medicine, and on top of our financial situation, it just wasn’t written in the stars for us.
I have been working since I was 15 years old, and I have never not worked for a good corporation, which means I have always had health insurance. I have always been covered pretty well in the dental and doctor world, even pre-Obamacare. I had always used the excuse “I can’t afford it” when thinking about how much I really needed to go to the dentist, but I eventually started to realize that I was lying to myself to save face. It wasn’t about money or anything else — I was fully covered for dental insurance at three of the jobs I held in my twenties. It was only about fear. I had convinced myself that I had a cavity in every single tooth. I assumed I would need three root canals, even though I still have no idea what a root canal is. I assumed the dentist would scold me for not flossing daily (er, or ever) and for putting off my dental care for so long. I was fully prepared to use the “my family is really poor” excuse, but by the time I finally gathered the courage to go, I hadn’t lived with my family for nine years.
I went to the dentist last year, at the ripe ol’ age of 26, for the first time since before I can remember. That is not an exaggeration — I either don’t remember going to the dentist, or I had never been to the dentist before. I had a back molar that I knew needed to be removed, all paranoia aside. My roommate had similar dentist issues (her family rarely went, she was overdue for a visit, she was scared) and one morning, she cracked her tooth while eating cereal. I don’t know why that was the moment that finally scared me into making an appointment, but it was, so I did. I researched some dentists in my small town, picked a lady because I like them more and made my appointment.
Going to the dentist was fine. She was super nice, and did not ask me invasive questions about why I had never gone to the dentist in all of my adult life. The teeth molds were awful and I gagged twice. I joked about the Celine Dion music playing at the time. They cleaned my teeth, and told me I only needed five fillings and that the rest was build-up from years of skipping teeth cleanings. Five cavities is nothing considering I had never been and I lived off of soda as a child. I needed two teeth pulled — one of my wisdom teeth that had grown all the way in, and the dead tooth I already knew about. We were going to do the things I needed in rounds. Some that day, and some the next appointment.
We pulled the dead tooth that day. I needed a lot of numbing liquid shot into my gums because I kept being able to feel the pressure of the tooth being yanked. The dentist told me I might hear a scary cracking and crumbling sound, but not to worry. It’s only more audible because the tooth is by my ear canal. Super reassuring. Luckily, I didn’t hear a crumbling noise, otherwise I definitely would have thrown up or cried. The process took awhile though, and by the end, I felt very emotional. I was partially feeling very proud of myself for finally giving myself the care I always needed, and I was partially feeling a bit of pain, and dare I say, loss? I was taking deep breaths, I was willing myself to think of anything else, and then we were done. The song “Brave” by Colbie Caillat came on right at that moment, and I started crying. I didn’t want to cry, but I cried. I don’t even really like that song.
The dentist asked me if I wanted to see the tooth. I don’t know why, but I said yes, and was surprised at how long it was. I guess I think of teeth as baby teeth that you stick under your pillow in exchange for dimes, or in my case, a copy of TLC’s “CrazySexyCool”. It was big, and it was a part of me, and I lost it. And I felt better about it.
The whole shebang — cavities, cleaning, teeth removal — was $200 over the course of six weeks. Doable, and definitely an important step in feeling like an adult human who knows how to take care of herself.
Anyone putting off the dentist because they are scared: I feel you, I get you, now go. You can do it. You will smile wider in pictures, and that is the most important gift to give yourself.
