Little Shop of Horrors?

Nope, I'm not frightened. I tend to get a stiff neck sitting still for so long, but that's just an annoyance. I think for most people it's the lack of control, and the fact that some procedures are just plain painful. Me, I just compare it to giving birth and it's no big deal.

Women have a much higher pain threshold than men. If men had to have babies the species would have died out a long, long time ago.

I don't fear the dentist.

The doctor is another story.

Robert Toy said:

Women have a much higher pain threshold than men. If men had to have babies the species would have died out a long, long time ago.

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Yet another scurrilous sterotype, used over the millenia to entrap women into doing all the tedious painful jobs. It's not a higher threshold. It's a bad long-term memory.

Anything having to do with the dentist will send me running in the opposite direction!

I had to have my wisdom teeth carved out and in the process the dentist decided he needed to break my jaw to facilitate his hand entering my mouth.

I went home with my gums stitched closed, suffered profuse bleeding for the next 6 hours, eating through a straw for a month then the pain of bone fragments working their way through my gums for 2 months after that.

After that wonderful experience, I eat a hamburger in layers.

Does that make me a wuss when it comes to dentists? YES!

When I was a kid I had an absolutely wonderful dentist, it wasn't until I was in my late 20s that I became terrified of them. I'd even call it phobic since every time I even pass by a dentist's office I break out in cold sweats.

The incident that caused this was a horrid toothache/boil that coincided with a time when we were uninsured (ain't that always the way). I ended up having to go to a Charity hospital to get it looked at.

It took 3 hours before I saw somebody. This is understandable since just after I came in, so did a number of folks from a multiple car accident. No big, all things considered.

When I finally was seen, this college kid (nurse in training? doctor in training? I'm not sure) told me I had to take my shirt off in order to get an X-ray. I told him he was out of his freakin' mind. Apparently he got me confused with the patient in front of me who was scheduled for a chest X-ray. GAH! Ask my name, read the wrist band, or, if all else fails, look me in my swollen freakin' face already.

When I finally got someone to see me, I swear it was a brand freakin' new student. First, he forgot to give me the novacaine until I reminded him (at which the reminder sounded something like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!). Novacaine administered he ended up cracking the tooth so bad that it broke into a bunch of little pieces that he had to pick out. Oh, and did I mention, he didn't pop the boil until after he picked out the pieces?

And the icing on the cake? I got lectured for screaming because "I could have scared the other patients."

It still amazes me that my husband was able to stop me from punching the woman that said that.

Not so much terrified as dislike them intensely.

For one thing, I have a phobia about syringes - it's completely irrational and without foundation, but they freak me out. Every dentist I've said this to has replied "but dentists needles are different". Sorry, but my phobia doesn't distinguish between dentists needles and anyone elses.

Dentist visits are far from my favorite things, actually near the bottom of my list. However, since I moved into my current house (two years ago), my neighbors across the cul-de-sac are both dentists (husband and wife) with their own family practice. They are my dentists, so I am very relaxed when I go in to see them. They are extremely professional and competent, and since I know them really well, it's taken the edge off the whole thing. Nonetheless, I'd always rather be somewhere else, like drinking beer in their driveway while the kids play on the lawn.

I don't mind as long as:
a) they don't play the music loud &
b) don't talk

(Hey, I'm trying to sleep over here!)
Comfy chairs....zzzz....wish I had one for myself...zzzz.....

one dentist started propping my mouth open with sponge blocks because I'd always fall asleep and my mouth would close...zzzzz....

When I was 17, my dentist didn't use any anesthesia, called me wimp when I was shaking like a leaf at the sound of the drills and saws, and proceeded to cut my tongue with a deep gash. And he laughed.

'nuf said.

(My current dentist is very good though. But he usually have to jab me with three needles before the Novocain kicks in... I am Novocain-resistent)

MidnightMuse said:

Now I feel woosey !!

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And makes my jaws hurt!

I don't fear the dentist. I also fall asleep in his chair -- as I do at the barber, and in church as well. I simply can't remain motionless without shutting down.



However, here is MY best dentist story. It's one of my favorites, and will be in my autobiography. I hope anyone writing an unauthorized biography includes it as well, since it's one of my favorite life moments.




When I joined the Marine Corps, I was informed that I'd have to have all my wisdom teeth pulled. It's standard operating procedure for the military: take them out now, so they won't cause a potential problem in some war in the future. Having never needed (or even known that I had) wisdom teeth, I figured no sweat.

So I sit down in the Naval Dentist's chair, and he's got his son there, a nice little 5-6 year-old. It must have been bring your kid day to work, or something.

The dentist starts by trying to give me some assurances.

"It's possible that your bottom wisdom teeth have grown so large I'll have to drill them in half to remove them. This is usually rare. It's also possible that the root has grown around your jaw, and in this case we'll have to break your jaw to remove them.

"This also is rare.

"The top teeth could have had their roots grow up into your cheeks, and there's a possibility that removing them could destroy nerves in your face, but this too is rare. Ready to begin?"

Oh joy, right?

So he starts pumping novacaine into all four teeth/gummy areas, saying "Now, if this wears off before I stop, you just let me know, ok?" I couldn't really reply, seeing that he'd just numbed my entire face.

They place a little paper shield over my face, and for the next 20 minutes all I hear is a drill, and the tap-tap-tap of bits of tooth chipping off and slapping the paper shield.

By the 4th tooth... I'm feeling it. Not fully, but enough for my groggy mouth area to say to my not-groggy brain "Hey dude... Something's seriously wrong down here."

So I did the best I can to tell the Dentist that the novacaine's wearing off. Something tough to do with hands shoved in your face and most of your mouth dead to the world.

"Ngnnnn. Nhggngnnn," I said.

Without losing a beat, the dentist says to his son "See Billy, that's why they're called grunts."

:|





Being that this was boot camp, this dentistry experience has a followup that probably no one else on earth can claim...


The next day, on light-duty bed-rest and hopped up on pain pills, I'm in my rack when I hear someone (Drill Instructor Sgt. Riveria, if I recall) shouting "GRENADE! GRENADE! OUT! OUT! OUT!" Everyone in the barracks sprints out of the barracks, as a thick green smoke starts pouring out of our supply closet. I looked up, noticed everyone leaving, saw the smoke, said to myself "Hm. Smoke grenade," and went back to sleep.

a) Apparently we'd had a live grenade in our practice materials. This was a huge violation and there was a large investigation into how we'd gotten live munitions by accident.

b) Based on the above, everyone (especially me, since I stuck around to see the whole thing) was very fortunate it was a smoke and not a frag.

c) As an added, final bonus to my experience, once the stitches wore off, I had 4 little holes in my mouth where I could store vegetables, meat, and other food tidbits for later... popping a piece of corn out of my former-toothwell on a long march and enjoying that little morsel was ecstasy.


Dentists? No sweat.

My younger sister is a dental hygenist, and I've heard some pretty ghastly stories.

My husband once had a Little Shop of Horrors dentist when he was about 8 and had a bad tooth. He was crying and scared to open his mouth, and the dentist put down his tools and said "I'm just going to look--I promise I won't touch anything." So young Mr. Cat Scratch looked to his mother who nodded encouragingly, and he tentatively opened his mouth. Not a moment later the dentist snatched up the pliars, clamped down on the problem tooth, and yanked it out of his mouth! No anasthetic, nothing.

Needless to say, Mr. Cat Scratch is STILL terrified of the dentist, 22 years later. I had to beg and beg and beg to get him to go to one, since until he met me, he hadn't been to a dentist. (You can imagine the state of his teeth. I had to go on a kissing strike to get him to go.)

P.S. Need I remind you about the winning Bad Boss Story?

http://www.workingamerica.org/badboss/

I hate visiting the dentist who has really bad breath. I don't know what's worse, sitting there getting drilled or poisoned by garlic and clove.

You know what they say about shoemakers and their shoes, spooky.

dclary said:

c) As an added, final bonus to my experience, once the stitches wore off, I had 4 little holes in my mouth where I could store vegetables, meat, and other food tidbits for later... popping a piece of corn out of my former-toothwell on a long march and enjoying that little morsel was ecstasy.

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Didn't know you're a hamster. Can we call you hammie and put you in my pocket?

I have no fear of dentists. But I've been relatively lucky with my teeth. In fact, I think my dentist secretly hates me because he only gets to charge me for a cleaning and an office visit, none of the other fun stuff.

Shadow_Ferret said:

I have no fear of dentists. But I've been relatively lucky with my teeth. In fact, I think my dentist secretly hates me because he only gets to charge me for a cleaning and an office visit, none of the other fun stuff.

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My proctologist's feels the same way about me...

I don't mind the dentist - but I hate going to the hair-dresser.