I’m a girl with an oral hygiene addiction.
Yesterday was not a good day. In fact, I think I hit an all time low, if we’re measuring by the amount tears shed on any given day. I’d been dreading the visit to the dentist for ages—ever since I cracked two fillings and my jaw began to ache. I could tell from just looking at the one tooth a root canal was in my future. What I didn’t expect was to have a mouth full of cavities… again.
You have to know, I’m a girl with an oral hygiene addiction. Iz and I joke that there are more dental care products in the bathroom than there are hair care products, and you know how I feel about hair goop! I’m a sucker for the next best dental floss, tooth-paste, mouth rinse… and that doesn’t take into account all the homeopathic aids I’ve bought over the years.
I’d tell you it’s vanity—and it is, if you consider vanity to be, “I don’t want to lose all my teeth.” This is not an irrational fear on my part, since both of my parents faced just that before they were 30. They passed on those genes and you can see it in my paper thin enamel. But I’ll have you know, that with exception to a cavity in a baby-tooth at the age of 5 I didn’t have another filling until I was 30! And that’s because I’ve been so obsessive. I rinse, brush, or floss after every meal and then sometimes just because.
However, something went awry at 30 (Uh, had a traumatic pregnancy and diagnosed with an autoimmune disease) and I’ve been playing “plug the gaps” ever since. Which is partly why I dread the dentist. A visit is a reminder that some things are very much outside of my control—and that reminder usually comes with an expensive price tag just to rub a bit of salt into the wound.
Now, in the realm of real world worries, getting your teeth fixed (over and over and over) is unfortunate and painful and expensive—but it is not cancer. Or bankruptcy. Or losing your job or having a beloved pet die or any other scenario that haunts a soul. It’s fixable, it’s doable, it’s part of getting older and the progressive devolving that is aging. Yes, folks, I’m getting old. (SHUT IT, Emily, xoxo Kitty!)
And if it was just that, then I don’t think I would have spent yesterday in tears. What I dread is the inevitable guilt that comes along with a dentist peeking into my mouth. It’s probably just me, but I always walk away feeling like I’m 12 and an utter failure because once again my mouth is a mess! It’s humiliating. The shame and the guilt and the lectures. No one wants to be reduced to twelve—especially by a health-care professional. Up until yesterday, I’ve had the worst luck drawing dentists from the “approved physicians list” my insurance policy provides. My last big dental encounter was with a dentist who was so mean, I nearly walked out of the office. Apparently, Â he thought because I was stoic at the first visit, that I wasn’t really in pain. Despite the raging infection he could easily see. He didn’t want to prescribe pain meds and thought I was rude. We worked it out, but the initial encounter left me a sobbing mess for days waiting for treatment—in severe pain, humiliated to be branded a “drug-seeker!”, and fearing what was coming next.
Oh, and then there is that whole irrational fear of Dentists thing. Even the nicest dental office turns my knees to jello.
Now, I should make a short aside here and say—I’m not blogging about any local dentist. Â This is all in the past, thank goodness! My experience yesterday was so much better than I could have imagined even with all the complications. Â I’d have nothing but GOOD to say, if I was saying it. In fact, I’d be raving—even as the bill is breaking my heart! All my trauma yesterday was completely self inflicted. I have a lot of practice doing unhinged, apparently.
So… that’s me… a total emotional wreck at just the thought of visiting a dentist. I’m rejoicing that this time was better. Â I walked out with 4 new items to add to my treasure chest of oral hygiene products—yes, that makes me ridiculously happy. And I’m so grateful to have lovely, lovely friends who have sent me emails and messages of support and promises that it’s all going to be OK. Kerri, Margaret, and Emily–I love you.
I’m also thankful that I have a spouse who understands how unhinged I get about going to the dentist. He has been so patient… stopping to listen every time the tears overwhelmed. That’s a lot, people, because I was a hot mess yesterday! You all know I adore him, but it should be said from time to time; I have an amazing husband. And seriously, if you’ve ever seen me in that hiccuping, snot-laden, I can’t breathe because I’m crying so hard state, you’d know he’s a saint!
I suspect the title is obvious, but in case it’s not: Here you go! Clicky clicky! It’s a fun read and interesting history.
I can’t imagine how frustrating and scary that would be to work so hard at taking care of your teeth, only to have them not cooperate. AND have it be out of your control and expensive. I would be crying my eyes out too; my husband would be sick of it after a few minutes. You have a treasure in Iz. 🙂 Glad you have a nice dentist and some new dental toys.
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I was such a mess. On so many fronts, it’s completely irrational and blown out of proportion. And I know that, but it doesn’t help. Of course, the bill was something to cry about! But my fears on the dentist front turned out to be completely unfounded… despite my past experiences. Which just goes to show, you can re-do things! 😀 And yeah, I’m blessed beyond measure in the husband department. I have NO idea how he puts up with me! ~W
Oh I’m so sorry. I have a very similar mouth condition as you, and truly feel your pain; and it isn’t just physical pain but emotional too. I hope your new arsenal of products help.
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Oh, Tricia, then you know! It’s infuriating, isn’t it? I think we have a good game plan to stem this tide… but it’s overwhelming. And then the expense… Oy Vey! 😀 ~W
Well, although it is scary and frustrating, I’m so glad your local experience was so much better than years ago when we lived in CA. What a relief to know that you have great care.
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Yeah, I’m frustrated with my DNA, but I feel like I have a treatment plan that might actually work! Which is so much further down the line than I’ve ever been. That’s a blessing!! ~W
oh wende,i am so sorry. i understand your feelings because i too feel like a young child when the dentist is looking at my teeth.and when they make that hmmm noise it makes me even smaller! i can’t believe at 53 that i still get cavities.i’m very glad that you have iz to be there for you.it makes all the difference when someone understands.
i like where you keep your dental stash, its very pretty.
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Oh, thanks so much! I know what you mean about those noises!! IZ also makes them from time to time, and it kinda drives me batty. We call it, ok *I* call it his, “non-commital” language. 😀 ~W
My father was a dentist so we were brought up on a ‘healthy’ diet, minimal sugar, lots of fruit and NO sweets. Our teeth were well looked after,we had fluoride tablets as our local water was not fluoridated. All this during the 1950s and 60s. Naturally we have continued to take care of our teeth as adults
Having suffered from scurvy as a very young child the enamel on my permanent teeth was damaged so a great deal of care has gone into maintaining my mouthful of teeth to the age of 61.
The most painful thing for me occurred three years ago when one of my back teeth cracked longitudinally and could not be saved. How I cried when the dentist took it out. No it wasn’t the physical pain but the mental pain of losing my first permanent tooth.
And then more crying at the cost of having a bridge fitted.
My father at 90 still has all his own teeth. Not a bad advert for care and attention and without all the modern ‘aids’ that are available now.
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That’s amazing about your Dad! I think genetics plays a large role–as does good care. IZ’s mother worked for a dentist when he was young, so she had sealants placed on all his teeth… and they are STILL holding for him. I had poor enamel (and additional fluoride treatments all through childhood!) from birth, but then spent half of my pregnancy with hyperemesis gravidarum — and I had enough sense to rinse after every bout (and it was hourly for weeks!) but I don’t think you expose your teeth to that much stomach acid and get away without some residual damage. It’s just the luck of the draw. There’s an old (pre modern dentistry, I would guess) proverb, “You lose a tooth with every baby.”
And of course you cried over losing your tooth! I mean, you’ve worked SO hard to keep them. I can’t speak for those who don’t put any effort into it–but for those who do, I suspect that’s part of the horror.
You left the door wide open for me about getting older, but I’m feeling mellow in my old(er than you) age, so I’m letting it go. 🙂 Besides, I know how you feel. Your smile is important – it’s the first thing people see. I went to great lengths to fix mine and I’d do it again. I’m glad you had a good experience this time (at least as good as could be expected). Some things, like DNA and taxes, are out of our control and you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. But when you do (because sometimes it’s inevitable), we’ll all be here to give you a hug 🙂
xoxo
Emily
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Awww, Emily… you rock! I appreciate the kinds words and the emails and the fb messages. 😀 I know, I’m high maintenance. xoxo Kitty