Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always been absolutely terrified of the dentist. I’d always put it off by letting my older sister go first, just to buy myself some time. It’s the noise! To me, it’s like scratching your nails on a chalkboard. And the taste of metal and menthol-flavored latex—just thinking about it gives me goosebumps. It’s horrible!
Over time, I’ve had to learn to cope with this fear. It’s turned into extreme nervousness. A six-month checkup, a bad night’s sleep the night before, fingernail marks on their big dentist’s chair, and my eyes tightly shut (I always use the excuse that the light is too bright—it always works like a charm), impatiently waiting to be told that the exam is over.
Until I had children. These tiny, beautiful, sweet little beings—they, too, eventually get teeth. But it wasn’t easy for my boys. Lots of crying, biting, rough nights, and painkillers. There even came a point when I told myself they’d never come in. That in the end, my children would be strange, toothless beings, doomed to eat soft foods or small bites for the rest of their lives…
To make matters worse, their teeth finally came in—and needed treatment. My relatively manageable fear turned into a nightmare. I couldn’t imagine taking my children to that office, which, to me, is a veritable torture chamber. If they feel comfortable and “behave themselves,” that’s one thing. But if they got scared, how could I reassure them?
We quickly decided that Dad—who’s much more laid-back—would handle this. So why am I bringing this up? Recently, Dad came up to me and said:
- Honey, I made a dentist appointment for Benjamin. It’s on Monday, but I’ve been “scheduled” for an important rehearsal… I won’t be able to go with him. Then again, last time went really well. He handled it like a champ. You don’t have to worry.
The thing is, I don’t work on Mondays. So I’m totally available to go. What did I do? I could have reacted maturely, telling myself that he’s absolutely right and there’s nothing to worry about: our little kitten is going to handle this like a lion!
I replied, “I can’t either—I have an appointment that day, too!”
I RAN AWAY! I purposely made an appointment—one that really wasn’t that important—just so I wouldn’t have to go to the dentist with my son! Judge me all you want, but there you have it: I’m a dentist-phobic chicken, and I own it!
Anyway, I got my comeuppance because the following week, after my cleaning, they found a cavity and I had to go back two days later to get it fixed…
What about you—do you have any irrational fears? Ones that are stronger than you, but that you know deep down are a little ridiculous? Tell me I’m not alone!