A Good Dentist Is To Be Prized Beyond Rubies…

So, if you asked my mom what my number one fear was, she’d say, probably with no hesitation, the dentist.

This fear was started when I was about 3 or 4 and went to what might have been my very first ‘real’ dentist appointment, as in was going to have a cleaning etc.

New things are scary for small children anyway, and this dentist was an idiot.  First of all, my mom wasn’t allowed in with me.  Second of all, as I sat there, screaming and crying with fear, he clamped his hand over my mouth and told me to shut up.  My mom eventually made it past the receptionist and got me out of there.  But the worst part? Was this same receptionist (or whatever she was) leaning over into my still sniffling, crying face and saying ‘You’re going to behave next time, aren’t you Robyn.’  I’m not sure if my mom actual said ‘There won’t be a next time.’  But I know I never saw that dentist again.

This bad beginning was compounded by years of painful dental treatment.  I have a very small mouth (shush you in the back) and a very tight frenulum, which is the small piece of skin that attaches your upper lip to your gums.  If you run your tongue along the front of your top teeth, you’ll feel it there.  So I was given a frenectomy to remove it and loosen my top lip, in preparation for braces.  It didn’t work.  And my frenulum? More or less grew back.

And then my adult teeth began coming in.  And X-Rays showed that both of my eye teeth were coming through the roof of my mouth.  At that point I was already wearing braces (which, now that I think about it, doesn’t make much sense, why did  I have braces before all my adult teeth were in? Mom?) so they cut into the roof of my mouth, brought my eye teeth down and attached them to my braces to bring them forward.  Since they didn’t get a chance to mature all the way, my eye teeth are about 60% bonding, to make them the right size.

Then there was wisdom teeth removal.  And other bad dental experiences.

Where I finally ended up as was a grown up who didn’t go to the dentist.  For years.

Oh I went occasionally.  I had a half way decent dentist on the Embarcadero when I worked in San Francisco.  Then I stopped working in the city and stopped going.

And then I moved to Belfast.  At some point in the last 7 years I did find a dentist who I saw maybe 2 or 3 times before she closed her City Centre office.  Her other office was all the way who the hell knows where and so I stopped going again.

And then I had Adam.

Now Simon is about as good as I am about going to the dentist.  So we made a pact.  I would find us all a NHS dentist and we’d all start going.

And then I rang every dentist on the NHS registry located in Belfast.  And not *one* of them was taking new patients.

And then I rang Loughridge Dental Care. They don’t do NHS dentistry (except children, Adam is on NHS until he’s 4).  And they aren’t cheap.

But they are the most wonderful dental practice I have ever experienced.

From the moment I spoke to their receptionist/dental assistant on the phone, I knew this was the place for me.  She was kind and  understanding.  She let me ask many many questions.

And then I met Chris Loughridge, the dentist.  Who came into the waiting room and said ‘I’m Chris.  I’m the dentist.’  He was so relaxed and so obviously enjoyed what he did.

The next two hours were exhausting and intensive, with XRays and a partial cleaning (my teeth were so bad Rita, the hygienist, could only get the top done in the amount of time she had) and a long talk with Chris as to what I wanted out of my dentistry and my history (including the above story which shocked him) and where should we go from there?

Where we went from there was my second appointment, which was today.  The XRays found 3 cavities, including my cracked tooth that I knew about as I’ve been sticking my tongue into the hole for years!  The dental team also found fairly profound gum disease and the need for major, deep cleaning.

So today we filled the crack in my tooth.  And Chris is the first dentist I have every had who managed to pre-numb my gum enough that I never felt the needle.  Who waited long enough for the Novocaine to actually work.  Who filled my tooth with no pain.  Who got me to breath and relax.  Who cracked jokes as he drilled.

Of course, it helped that Adam was sitting over by a window, in his pram, babbling away and making all of us laugh!

But I laughed at Chris as well, as he asked me if I was sure I didn’t want to have the other two filled today, on the other side of my mouth, so I wouldn’t be able to talk at all? I told him I was sure!!

And so, I have found a dentist.  Hopefully Simon will be seeing him soon as well.  And Adam has had his first check up (in that Chris and I got him to open his mouth and Chris counted his teeth!).

And with a bit of luck, and frequent preventative care, Adam will never hear the words I heard today when Rita said ‘I’ll need you to come back.  I’ll need to numb you to get the bottom teeth clean.’

And hopefully, I’ll never hear it again either.