Wednesday, April 25, 2018

It's Not Dental Phobia


I have a permanent retainer behind my bottom teeth, and I loathe how it captures food and I can't get it out. I brush, floss, and have even bought cheap dental tools to pick at this retainer.

Then I got the best advice ever — a friend of mine who has the same issue has her teeth cleaned every 4 months. Sure, you pay for an extra cleaning a year out of your own pocket, but it's all of $85 and it's worth it to me.

Yesterday was my cleaning, and I got into an interesting conversation with the hygienist. Or, I should say, she had a lot of interesting thoughts that I agreed with by making odd sounds with my mouth wide open.

She talked about seeing patients who finally came in for a cleaning for the first time in 15 or 20 years. They have such dental phobia that they never see a dentist. Some have no issues at all, just really, really dirty teeth, while others end up with a mouthful of cavities and future crowns and bridges.

Upon thinking about this, I've determined that I don't have dental phobia, I have a fear of bad teeth. Our teeth are made of bone; once they're gone, there is no substance in the world as strong that will replace them. Crowns need to be replaced, bridges fall apart. Our natural teeth are the authentic manufacturer-installed parts; once they are replaced, the fit isn't quite as tight, the holding as deep or strong.

I have dreams (nightmares, really) where my teeth suddenly start falling out of my mouth at random and I am devastated. I worry that my teeth will start wiggling and coming out like baby teeth. I fear the day that I'm told I need a crown, because I loathe the idea of filing down two perfectly good teeth just to put a false one between them.

And so I go to the dentist often not because I'm afraid of the dentist, I'm afraid of bad teeth.

It's been working out well. About a year ago my dentist noticed that one of my molars that's had a filling in it since childhood was starting to crack. He recommended that we remove the old silver filling and put in a new one made with material that would flow down into the crack and seal it, hopefully saving the tooth from cracking further. It's been a year now, so far so good.

Every dentist I've ever had as an adult has commented on how good the fillings I had put in as a child are. Thank you, Dr. Nyder, our next-door-neighbor and dentist, for your awesome work 40+ years ago!

Well now, this was a completely random post, I can't believe you made it to the end. Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts. It's leading me to another post about my daughter Marissa's dental woes, stay tuned for that if you actually read this one.

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