(n.) fear

noun. /fɪr/ the bad feeling that you have when you are in danger, when something bad might happen, or when a particular thing frightens you

During January and February, we have been focusing on the fear I have been feeling towards the dentist. I am a person who doesn’t have much to fear, and although I do find some things irritable, my body or my mind doesn’t react as strongly as it does to the idea of the dentist. Yes, I do not enjoy being in high places, or seeing a spider; any animal with more than four legs is irritating to me. I do not enjoy staying in the dark; however, I do not have a full-blown panic attack when these things are the reality that I am living in.

I have had my fair share with dentists; I had an orthodontic treatment when I was 12, which continued until I was 15. I had two chin surgeries because of how my teeth were aligned. I was awake during both of them, and I do not even remember a single ounce of pain during these treatments. After chemotherapy, all my teeth were almost gone, and half of my mouth had either a filling or a root canal treatment. What I mean is that I am used to seeing a dentist. It all started when I was 12, and it still keeps going because simply, I do not have good teeth. I take care of my dental health very seriously because of all the problems I’ve had ever since I was a little child, and no matter how much I work on it, it just doesn’t get any better.

For the past four years, I have been escaping from dentists.

By escaping, I don’t mean that I was in pain but kept going; I just knew that my teeth were getting worse and worse day by day. However, every time I went to a dentist, I didn’t let them do anything other than just a simple procedure. I got my wisdom teeth pulled out; one of them was a surgical operation, and the other one was a simple tooth removal which only took 10 minutes. During that removal, I also learned that I have the 33rd tooth in my mouth, they removed it too, and now I keep it in my home as a funny memory.

I have the most amazing dentist, and it took me years to meet someone like her. I trust her incredibly; however, from the first day that we met in 2020, I haven’t been the easiest patient she had. Unfortunately, during my dentist visits, I undergo a sedative medicine which actually calms my anxiety down after having a full-blown panic attack which caused two additional doctors to hold me in my place during one of the wisdom teeth removals. Again, I want to clarify that I am not feeling anything at all; I respond 100% to anaesthetics, and everything that happens around me is just because of what is happening in my mind.

My mind reacts incredibly bad when it comes to sitting down on that chair. I am not scared of the anaesthetic needle; I am actually doing very well with it, which includes asking for an additional one or two in order to eliminate the possibility of feeling a single thing. While I understand that this is not the best way to have even a simple procedure, however, everything I do is monitored by an additional doctor due to my past with Hodgkin Lymphoma.

This January, I made my bullet list for 2024. And in this bullet list, I promised myself that I would take care of my health. I was recently released from the oncology department, which means that I am no longer in the risk group, and I just have to go to a regular doctor every year to get my tests and scans done. If everything is well, I don’t even need to see a specialist anymore. This achievement is an incredibly important thing to me because I have been waiting for that specific day that I would be released from this department. When I got that, I turned back to myself and thought about everything that I had been doing in order to not go to a dentist. I know it doesn’t sound like the most logical thing to do to yourself, especially when you know that your teeth are just bad and it’s going to get worse and worse every single day; I was simply way too scared to accept it.

Eventually, I called my amazing doctor. She is just like a mother to me because she is understanding, and even if she does a simple fill, every time I raise my hand she stops, every piece of equipment she uses explains, from their voices to how they are going to feel, she eliminates the fear in my mind because when I don’t know what is going on I get even more triggered. She allows me to go to her clinic with a stuffed avocado toy; she lets me open any music that I want because the voices of the equipment are also triggering for me. Overall, she is the one and only dentist that I have come across in my life and I feel like I can have my full trust. At the first appointment, she promised me that we would start slow. And we did. We only had three teeth fills, and because she knows that I have such a hard time sitting down on that chair, she actually numbs me very well and does as many teeth as she can. This is something that I have my full consent on because since the same area is numbed, it is important that she actually fixes everything so that my visits can be less in amount.

I still go with a sedative medicine, which doesn’t leave me completely disoriented; I am still there; I am still reacting; however, it makes the process of sitting down on that chair a little easier. In the first appointment, we had three teeth done, as I have said, and at the next appointment, I had two fills and one root canal treatment. I did not feel a single thing, and eventually, she told me that three of my already done root canals unfortunately are beyond saving, and she has to pull the teeth and put 3 implants. You most likely know what an implant is, but let me briefly explain how it works for you: basically, they put screws in your chin, let it heal, and become one with your bone, and they put a fake tooth on top. It sounds very scary when you think that they are going to drill your chin, put something in, and eventually build a whole new tooth out of nothing; this is the only option that I can have.

I am 28. I am still way too young to lose everything I have in my mouth, and unfortunately, this is the treatment that will actually help me in my future years.

Now let me explain this fear to you. Prior to my first appointment with my dentist, I had horrible nightmares about my teeth falling out of nowhere and little spikes coming out of my chin, which I believe to be the roots of my teeth, and my husband woke me up because I was crying in my sleep. I feel like thunders are erupting in my chest, and the air rejects entering my lungs every time I think about sitting there, opening my mouth, and letting them do something with these pieces of equipment, which are turning and making horrible sounds. I keep crying for no reason; I am horrified for no reason, but as far as my therapist told me, some fears don’t require having a reason. This might be a trauma that I do not remember at the moment, or this might simply be something that I have altered my memories of at one point in my life, and have this reaction which is irrational but very much real.

At first, we thought of handling all of my teeth at once under general anaesthesia, which basically puts you to sleep. However, after my dentist told me that this could affect my fear and my ability to overcome it, my dentist and therapist had a small discussion, and I agreed to rule out general anaesthesia completely. I have come so far that I do not want to risk anything for this achievement, although it may seem small to everyone around me. Yes, I am under medication; however, for the first time in my life, I did not cry for hours before sitting on that chair. Yes, my dentist still had to stop every 10 seconds; however, my tears did not bother her. I did not have the urge to close my mouth. I did not move, and nobody entered the room to hold me on the chair. I simply stayed there with my own will, and this is something I cannot even express how hard it is for me. I remember thinking that I would rather disappear than sit on the chair; however, I refuse to give up.

I refuse to let my fear take control over me and affect my health. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that will bring total obliteration. I will face my fear; I will permit it to pass over me and through me, and when it is gone, I will turn to fear’s path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain. This quote from the book “Dune” has been turning in my head over and over while I was sitting there. I have come to the conclusion that fear is acceptable. Fear is normal because I am human. I may cry; I may feel fear banging in my chest, but I am here. I exist. And I will remain. Even if it takes my entire consciousness, I will make sure that I am going to complete all these treatments this month, and although it may never come easy for me, it will be a bearable thing. I have seen so much worse. I was also scared back then, but it didn’t change the fact that I did what was necessary for my health. I will do the same because I have to be brave. I have to be brave enough to make decisions even though they scare the hell out of me. And this alone is a solid reason to be proud of myself.

I went there, sat down, and handled it just like any other person. I am proud of myself for how far I have come, and acknowledging these small achievements is not something bad or selfish. This is a reminder that I exist. That I am working on myself. That I am working to heal. And I will heal. It will get better because I refuse to give up on myself. I refuse to give up on my health and this is all that matters.