Lie Down And Relax - It's Only A drill! 

Judging from the response to the column I wrote on “worry”, I bet I’ll also strike a simpatico chord with dental anxiety. There are many theories about the causes: childhood trauma, poor pain tolerance. I’ve got a theory.

A stranger’s aiming a STEEL REAMER at your mouth, for God’s sake.

A shrink I saw said, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger - and me richer.” (Sorry, I added the last part.) Frankly, I don’t need personal growth at the dentist. I just want it over.

Male dentists have suicide rates twice that of men in other jobs. If you had me as a patient, you’d want to slit your throat too.

A periodontist once told me, “We’ll cut away the meanie gum tissue and replace it with pretty pink skin from the roof of your mouth.”

I said, “You can’t mean that.” But he did.

Instead, I found a Centerville dentist named Marc Auger to help me with my problem. Dictionary meaning: Auger = tool used for boring holes. Thesaurus: Auger = borer, chisel, drill. Oy vay iz mir. Meaning: “Oh, woe is me.” For the non-Yiddishers out there, literal translation: “Holy Shlamoli!”

“Hi, I’m Marc,” he said when he finally found me curled up in a little ball behind his magazine rack. 

Dental phobia is less about pain and more about panic. And, like most panicky feelings, it is basically claustrophobia. Like when you’re in a situation you think you can’t get out of. (I don’t mean Xmas at your in-laws’.)

My unruffled husband Bob always wants to help. God, I envy him. He fell asleep during his MRI. His advice? “Don’t think about it.” (FYI - When you’re fully dilated, don’t ask for Bob.)

There comes a time to stop taking popular advice that doesn’t work. Some people listen to music; some deep breathe the tension away. But for the anxiety school drop-outs among us, we need another route.

Instead of trying to make anxiety go away, just try to make it little better. Don’t catastrophize the symptoms. Attempt to tolerate them. You’ve done this a million times already. Think of it as majorly miserable but not disastrous.  

Share your feelings. (I don’t mean telling your dentist you’re picturing him naked, much less finding that funny.) When you’re open about anxiety, it diminishes. How much does it really matter if people know you’re nervous? Ask your dentist for help.

Don’t bemoan the fact that some have it easy. Others can also roller blade without making big idiots of themselves.

Never come down on yourself for getting anxious. Anxiety pales in comparison to the courage in going through with your task, no matter how small it may appear.

So, here’s my next problem. Now that my dentist has read this column, he’ll think I picture him naked. I won’t be able to stop laughing at my appointment (like when you’re trying not to think of something). 

Marc will think I’m laughing at imagining him naked, but that’s not it. I’m infantile. Still I’ll worry about hurting his feelings. So I’ll blurt out, “I’m picturing you naked. But it’s no laughing matter!” As usual, Marc will quietly and patiently ignore my rantings.  

So, no one knows the root (sorry) of dental anxiety. Who cares about theory when you’re in the throes of  panic? I can, though, share more wisdom. Floss  more often than five minutes before each visit.

And don’t cancel your appointments. After all, your dentist is statistically prone to kicking the bucket. We’ve discussed worry and now anxiety, but you’ll feel really guilty if he takes the long dirt nap. (Sorry, I’m having a field day with clichés for saying sayonara.) Worry we can handle. Anxiety we can too. But how to stop feeling guilty? Well, frankly, that’s been on my to-do list for about forty years.