Of course this is self-defeating, as putting off going to the dentist makes perfect sense to me, until it's been so long that I have just set myself up for a visit to the bowels of hell. My last 2 dentists and their staff showed remarkable patience with this patient, and I don't even care if they made fun of me after I left. Each of them suggested I replace the temporary "flipper" I had had for many years, but there was always a good reason not to--usually financial.
Come my relocation to Western North Carolina in 2003. I saw my dentist just before leaving the Southwest, so figured I could take my time shopping for a new one (read: procrastinate). Then came my wedding anniversary 2005 when I broke off part of my bottom front tooth, leaving a hole in the middle of my smile.
Grab the list of insurance-approved dentists and start calling. Of course, no one can see me for a couple of weeks. Grab the phone book, find someone close by and ta-dah! he has openings several mornings a week for emergencies. His motto in the phone book reads "not your daddy's dentist".
Wonderful staff. Straight-shooting dentist. Internet access at a beautiful desk in a cozy little waiting room with wing chairs and lamps. Murals on the walls, with every room a different theme (beach house, Elvis room, grassy meadow). Dimly-lit room with relaxing chair for pre-appointment jitters. Computer screens above the chairs that can be changed to play movies or the TV channel of your choice, and can display your new dental x-rays or just how much all this (luxury) work will cost you.
He did a beautiful job on that tooth. Everyone was so gentle, so friendly and understanding. I even shared with them my source for kitty-litter cake at Halloween:
http://www.fabulousfoods.com/recipes/dessert/cakes/kittylittercake.html
Fast forward 18 months or so. I broke the front teeth off my flipper--that's right, the 25-year-old "temporary" flipper. It's so old and so brittle, the acrylic can't be matched, and the dentist can't fix it. His best suggestion: superglue. And set up appointments to get all my dental work done. I glued. I set up appointments. They kindly made me a new temporary after the third break and superglue.
Today was the first of all the fillings to be removed, cavities filled, etc. No one told me it was to be a 3-hour appointment. No one remembered to order a pre-procedure anti-anxiety med. No one seemed to remember I was a dental phobe until I was hyperventilating in the chair after having my size XS mouth stretched to a size XL and needled without the benefit of a topical anesthetic.
Oh, well, let's keep going. Ooops, seems your tooth has developed an abscess and needs a root canal. Shall we do it today? You might not have trouble with it for a year, or it could be killing you in 2 days. Only $1200 more than we'd planned. (Sure, why not?) Stick your tongue over here--spit stops the bleeding. (I HAVE no spit--you've suctioned it all out.) Move your tongue over. (Thon? Wha thon? I dhon' thin' I haf a thon'.) Are you breathing through your nose? (I'm trying!) Put your finger here and hold this ~torture device~ in place while we leave the room. 'Click' goes the x-ray machine. Repeat above. Repeat. Okay, Stephanie, that's all we're going to do today. (You bet your sweet bippy it is). L___ will have your prescriptions at the front desk and can make you another 3-hr appointment to get more of this work done.
I grab the prescriptions, my receipt, mumble something polite and leave. Maybe I'll call next week and make that appointment.
At my worker's comp medical appointment 1 hr later, my blood pressure was 142/90.
No, Dr. S___, you're not my daddy's dentist. Today you were my GRANDfather's dentist!
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