Like most kids- I loved my sugar. I loved getting one pound off my mam to go the shops, and coming home with a plastic bag filled with an array of jellies that would last us for days. I loved my chocolate and my fizzy drinks and sticky toffees.
Combined my super sweet tooth as a kid with already damaged teeth from being sick as a newborn [that turned my baby teeth black and rotten], my grownup teeth didn’t stand a chance.
I remember going to the dentist week-after-week to get new fillings and taking half-days off school to make the appointments.
But the one thing I remember the most is the horrible scratch of the needle and the nasty aftertaste. The two things I was dreading the most after avoiding the dentist all through college.
Turns out dentistry has come a long way since the 90s.
I didn’t feel a single thing, no nasty needle scratch or horrible aftertaste.
I sat on the chair, my nails clawing at the hand-rests as the very nice Polish doctor put the needle in. That same needle I had been eyeing since the second I got into the room. It was in my mouth at long last, after many years of avoiding it and a week of gut-twisting fear, that horrible thing was inside my mouth. I sucked in a deep breath, stared at the light just past the dentist’s head.
Why is he taking the needle out?
“We’re going to start now, if you feel any sensitivity, just let me know.”
Wait? What? I don’t feel numb, hold on a second…Nope, he’s going in for the kill…Oh god.
Then comes those all too familiar sounds,and then ‘Mister Bumpy’, followed by the gushes of water and air. It was over.
I remained on the chair. Confused and unsure whether I should get up or remain where I was. Are we done? Is that it? . In less than ten painless minutes, I had conquered my fear.
Stupid how our silly fears makes our situation so much worst than what it actually is.