What do you think about in the dentist chair?

In My Humble Opinion
1

I am profoundly phobic about the dentist, and picked up the optional dental insurance at work as a way of forcing myself to go occasionally. I have managed to deal with the worst of it, in that I get my cleanings and checkups and don’t have to be tracked down like a feral wolverine to get a root canal (necessary since there were many, many, many, many years where I wasn’t doing regular cleanings and checkups).

To sit in the chair, though – ai yi yi! I keep a special tension ball for just this purpose, and clutch it and squeeze it with all my might. Apparently they’ve got FRAIDY CAT marked in big letters in my chart, since as soon as there’s the suggestion of a wince from me, they’ll stop and ask “are you all right?” In other words, I do everything I can to make the experience as bearable as possible. (I’ve even started flossing!)

The question always is – what to think about while people poke around in my mouth with sharp objects? I actually don’t want to think about anything pleasant (“go to your special place…”), lest the pleasant thoughts be contaminated with my fear – also because it’s too hard to focus on them.

My current practice is to count backward by sevens – just pick some completely arbitrary number and keep subtracting seven. “Three thousand, five hundred, and ninety-two. Three thousand, five hundred, and eighty-five. Three thousand, five hundred, and seventy-eight.” etc. This requires a fair amount of focus, so it works pretty well.

Anyone have any suggestions on this? It’s only six months till my next appointment… :eek:

2

I fel your pain… literally. Not only am I extremely phobic of the dentist, I have horrible teeth. So for most of my life, each dentist visit has been full of shot, drilling, filling etc. Oh, and I apparently I am “hard to numb” for whatever reason – I’ve had up to 4 shots for a regular filling and once the numbness wore off in the middle of a root canal… I don’t want to talk about it. (I had intravenous demerol for my wisdom teeth – didn’t take any chances!)

Mostly I run through my calming excercises (that my dentist helped me with) including:
-Wiggle your toes (relaxes the large muscles of your legs)
-Wiggle your finger tips (relaxed large muscles of your arms)
-Calm, steady breathing (I’m given to hyperventilate whenever I feel the slightest pain)

Other things that help:
-They hide the syringe from me and tell me when to close my eyes so I don’t have to see it. (I also hate injections)
-They talk me through absolutely every little thing that is going on so I’m never surprised.
-Attempt to achieve a meditative state of no-thinking if possible.

My dentist (the whole dental team actually) knows well my extreme neurosis regarding dental work and has even offered me a valium if needed. So far, it hasn’t come to that.

3

At my last couple of cleanings I have only thought about two things:

  1. How good it feels to have my hygenist rub her breasts against my ear (and sometimes my cheek if I can turn my head at just right angle); and,

  2. How good it would be if she would not ask me questions that I can’t answer when she’s got her implements of destruction in my mouth.

Going to the dentist doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

4

Personally, I find the actual chair quite relaxing. When they tilt it back so that the feet are as high or higher than the head, I practically go to sleep. Of course, having someone messing around in your mouth is not sleep-inducing, but the chair itself is actually quite nice.

5

I have no great terror of the dentist, but I still tend to get very tense in the chair, so I find myself consciously trying to relax myself. Thank goodness, it’s just twice a year.

6

I am officially labeled traumatized in my dental records so my dentist gives me gas just to get my teeth cleaned. I also bring a CD player with headphones, think of nice things like chocolate, and do the relaxation exercises, too. Also my dentist has a poster on the ceiling with a lot of reading material on it (it’s a poster full of quotes about money.) That gives you something to think about, if you want.

7

Remember the starfish in “Finding Nemo” when the kid was tapping on the tank?

That’s me in the dentist’s chair:"Find a happy place. Find a happy place. FIND A HAPPY PLACE!

–SSgtBaloo

8

I have healthy teeth (if not white and straight – stupid tetracycline stains!) and so no real trauma in the chair.

Generally, what runs through my mind while sitting there: Do I really need this expensive procedure for basically healthy teeth or is my dentist just trying to scam me for more money? Maybe he needs another boat or his kid needs braces or something.

I trust practically no one. :smiley:

9

I have really bad teeth, so dentists have built whole new wings on their houses with the money I’ve paid out to them.

I used to consider myself hard to numb, but I once had a dentist who told me that the mind can actually block a local anesthetic, and that I should relax. I still don’t see how blocking a local anesthetic is possible, but I took his advice and haven’t had a problem since.

If you can’t relax, go for gas. On a 50% mixture of nitrous and oxygen, it’s hard to give a damn. But I strongly suggest you have someone else drive you home afterward.

Anyway, with modern dentistry, most of the discomfort is in your head. I haven’t felt pain from a dentist in 20 years.

10

Dentist. Oy. It’s frightening.

Growing up, I had very little fear of the dentist, despite the fact that I had several cavities so several experiences with the drill. It just didn’t bother me that much, and when I was about 11 or 12, I started to enjoy going.

Then came the summer I was 13 when I got my braces off. My orthodontist had to sand down the bottoms of two of my top teeth that were pointy, and he promised it wouldn’t hurt, so what the hell, I’m just hanging out in the chair, not worried when-

Holy mother of God, OUCH! OUCH! It’s not like I could talk, so I tried squirming away from the drill and when he finally stopped it and asked “Did that hurt?”, I screamed YEAH!

He shrugged and said, “It shouldn’t have,” and moved on to the other tooth. I remember all the details, aside from the pain, how the drill sounded, how I could smell the drill getting hot.

Flash forward 4 years when I have to get a filling replaced. This was a month before I turned 18, and for the first time in my life, I cried because I was so scared. I think I cried the following year as well when another filling needed replaced.

Anyway, twickster, I feel your pain because I’ve been there. I’ve gotten over my fear a little bit (a very little bit), but what I find helpful (aside from nitrous oxide) is to fidget with my hands causing small amounds of pain, like slightly digging my fingernails into my palm. Something about it distracts me from what’s going on in my mouth. Singing songs in my head also works to calm me a litlte bit.

11

I usually sit thinking what it will look like when my heart bursts through my chest. I hate going to the dentist, and it isn’t helped by the fact that I seem to be almost immune to the local anaesthetic, and thet is the strongest stuff dentists are allowed to use in the UK (no gas unless you are in a hospital), so I sit/lie there sweating and gripping the armrest as tightly as possible trying to ignore the agony going on in my mouth.

I hate going to the dentist.

12

I usually only think of two things…
-What’s THAT taste in my mouth?

and

-What’s THAT smell?

Yeah, I know…eeeuuuuugh!

13

Normaly, my thoughts are:

Ick. That tastes gross.
Concentrate on my teeth, not Sally’s new shirt.
Wow. They haven’t changed the posters on the celing for 6 years. and finally…
OUCH! IF SHE TRIES TO PIERCE MY TOUNGE ONE MORE TIME, I AM GOING TO BITE HER FINGER OFF!

I’m not a big fan of people messing around with tools in my mouth, but I enjoy the nice clean feeling I get after I leave. And the prize I get after helps too :slight_smile: .
Yes…I go to a kiddie doctor still, because my mother won’t change dentists yet. I think we are getting new insurance, so we have to find a dentist that we like, and that takes our insurance.

14

Some of you ask for novacaine for a simple cleaning?

When I was growing up we went to a dentist who didn’t even give novacaine for a filling. I guess that’s where I learned to go along with the program. I had to endure a deep scaling and when the dentist asked if I wanted gas or a shot I said “Just do whatever it is you have to do and get on with it.” They did and were amazed that I didn’t stop them and ask for something for the pain.

Novacaine. Feh.

15

It’s not so much that you are psychologically blocking the anesthetic (or creating the pain mentally, which is what is implied by “it’s all in your head”) but that the adrenalin coursing through your system causes the anesthetic to be processed much faster than normal. Thus the numbness doesn’t last as long as it “should.” At least, this is how it was explained to me.

As a side note, infections can also block the function of local anesthetic.

A lot of us would like to “just relax” but sort of… can’t – or at least not without going through elaborate rituals as described above. I don’t know if I’ll ever be “relaxed” in a dentist’s chair but in the past 4 years I have progressed from “completely panicky and weeping in fear” to “only slightly freaking out,” which my dentist thinks is excellent work on my part.

16

Not me, baby, that’s where I learned the fear and loathing thing.

And no, I don’t ask for novocaine for a cleaning – or gas for anything more serious (I’m a recovering addict – local anesthetics only).

17

A couple years ago I had a great time - thought more and more about how the dentist’s learned professionalism and the organization he and the assistant displayed while working on me were just an extension of their healing love, and a beautiful thing.

Oh, yeah, this was with gas.

Now, when I was little, my damn dentist didn’t give us any pain treatment - no gas or shot or swab of medicinal tasting stuff - and his damn drill would be so damn slow, and smoke and smoke… he had a huge photo mural of the desert with big cactuses, and I would hallucinate about being stranded in the desert. Fortunately, that was long ago. Now I like going to the dentist because I feel productive while I lie back and do nothing.

18

I just close my eyes and think of England.

19

I think about what’s on the T.V.

Seriously, if it’s at all possible, find a dentist who offers a television with every chair. You could remove all my teeth, and as long as there’s something interesting on the tube, I wouldn’t even notice.

Before I found my T.V.-lovin’ dental office, I used to bring a handheld T.V. with me to the dentist. That’s always an option, but I like having cable with my cleaning.

20

I like going to the dentist. I have actually fallen asleep in the chair. I close my eyes and day dream.