I had a check-up today. No treatment needed. Next check-up in 6 months, so I can relax till November.
The problem is in the anticipation, especially in the waiting room. My fear started in childhood with a dentist who told me that my tongue was too big for my mouth and told my mother that I had "abnormal tongue behaviour" which in his opinion was incurable beyond the age of 12. I was 12 then. I am now very far beyond the age of 12.
I still don't know what he meant, but then he never explained anything. That was part of my problem with him, along with that dreadful noisy drill.
My current dentist is kind, efficient, swift and explains what he is planning to do before he does it. So I really don't need to be scared, even though my teeth are far from perfect and don't merit this description:
"Your teeth are like a flock of ewes, that have come up from the washing: all of them bear twins, and not one of them is bereaved." (Song of Solomon 6:6, NRSV).What a fantastic picture for a cartoonist! My teeth are at least useful. I'm grateful that I can chew and that they are still all my own.
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons