My story of finding an understanding dentist and finally facing what once seemed impossible
Since I was a young boy, the mere thought of going to the dentist filled me with dread and fear.
It all started at my first dental cleaning around age 5. I can vividly recall sitting in the waiting room, clutching my mother’s hand tightly as we awaited my name to be called. The pungent smell of antiseptics and the harsh fluorescent lights only added to my growing unease.
When the dental assistant finally summoned me, I immediately froze, refusing to budge from my seat.
“Keith, it’s time for your cleaning,” my mother urged gently, trying to coax me up.
But I simply shook my head vigorously, my eyes welling up with tears.
The assistant, a kind older woman named Nancy, knelt down to my level.
“There’s no need to be scared, sweetie. I promise it won’t hurt a bit,” she said with a reassuring smile.
But her words did little to convince my 5-year-old self. I erupted into loud sobs, scrambling out of the chair and darting around the room as Nancy gave chase, trying to catch me for the exam.
“No no no!” I wailed, evading her grasp as I ran frantic circles around the space.
“Keith! You stop that nonsense right now!” My mother’s stern voice finally brought me to a halt.
Reluctantly, I allowed Nancy to take my hand and lead me back to the examination room, my little legs dragging with each step.
From that dreadful first experience, the sights, sounds, and smells of the dentist office became indelibly etched into my mind as sources of terror.
The sharp tools, the high-pitched whirring of the drill, and most of all, the looming gas mask used for procedures—each one sent shockwaves of panic through my body.
I dreaded that suffocating gas mask more than anything. Just imagining it being lowered over my face to pump air and medication would send me into a frenzy of tears and hysterics for hours before an appointment.
I would desperately beg and plead with my parents not to make me go, utterly frantic at the prospect of that disorienting mask.
One particularly scarring experience further cemented my aversion to dental visits.
After thinking he had removed my problematic tooth, my childhood dentist, Dr. Moore, must have gotten confused, as I was left sobbing in agonising pain with the real source of the issue still intact in my mouth!
“This can’t be right!” Dr. Moore had exclaimed with furrowed brows, peering into my swollen mouth.
“I could have sworn…” He trailed off, sighing as he examined my trembling, tear-stained face.
“I’m so sorry, Keith. It seems I missed the mark on this one. We’re going to have to try again,” he told me apologetically.
But at that point, I was inconsolable, screaming and thrashing about in the chair.
“No more! No more! You’re a liar!” I accused through gasps and wails, feeling a mix of panic, searing pain, and utter betrayal.
My poor mother looked on in exasperation as she tried, in vain, to calm me down.
“Shh shh, it’s okay honey. Dr. Moore made a mistake, but we’ll get it taken care of,” she attempted to soothe me, though her platitudes fell on deaf ears.
That botched dental experience left me feeling completely powerless and violated, reinforcing how out of my control these dreaded visits were.
I never wanted to feel that way again.
As the years went on, another phobia began compounding my aversion to the dentist—a deep fear of needles.
Simply picturing a long, sharp needle pricking my soft gum tissue would cause my heart to start pounding forcefully in my chest. An overwhelming sense of dread would wash over me at the mere thought.
With the traumatic gas mask memories coupled with my intensifying needle phobia, I became desperate to avoid dental visits at all costs, no matter the consequences.
If a routine cleaning was recommended, I would make a feeble excuse to get out of it.
Toothaches and cavities, I simply tried to ignore, favouring over-the-counter painkillers as temporary band-aids.
This avoidance strategy carried on for years until it inevitably caught up with me in a major way.
I’ll never forget the night that the most excruciating tooth pain shot through my jaw and jolted me awake. It felt as though a glowing metal rod was being shoved into my very nerve endings.
“Oh god, oh god!” I gasped, as I clutched the side of my mouth.
I immediately knew I would have no choice but to face my worst fear—a trip to the dreaded dentist.
Just the thought of making that fateful appointment had me sweating nervously. After pacing the floor and losing sleep agonising over it, I begrudgingly picked up the phone with a shaky hand and dialled the number for West Ridge Dental.
“H-hello, I need to schedule an appointment please. A tooth is just killing me,” I stammered shakily to the receptionist named Morgan who answered the phone.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry you’re in pain! Yes, let me get you in as soon as possible,” she replied, her voice laced with empathy.
“When’s the best day and time for you?”
“I…I guess tomorrow afternoon? around 3?” I managed to choke out between winces, already feeling nauseated with dread.
“Okay, I have a 3:15 with Dr. Silvers available. Can you make that work?” Morgan asked kindly.
Swallowing hard, I confirmed, “Y-yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“Wonderful. And don’t you worry, Dr. Silvers is extremely gentle and great with anxious patients. You’re in good hands,” Morgan reassured me, able to sense my trepidation even through the phone.
I thanked her once more before quickly hanging up, my stomach churning. The agonising wait began.
The next afternoon, the fateful appointment time inched cruelly closer. I found myself absolutely drenched in a cold sweat as I dragged my feet into the West Ridge office’s parking lot.
Each step felt heavier than the last, my body seemingly rejecting where I was headed.
As I checked in with the receptionist, Morgan, she instantly caught sight of how violently my hands were shaking.
“Deep breaths, you’ve got this,” she said gently, offering a reassuring smile. “Dr. Silvers will take excellent care of you.”
I gave a weak nod, not trusting my voice as my heart pounded in my ears. I paced the waiting room restlessly, my eyes darting around at every noise and movement, imagining all the horrors awaiting me.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a friendly-looking middle-aged woman in purple scrubs called out, “Keith? Dr. Silvers will see you now.”
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest at those words. This was it—my worst dread becoming reality.
With leaden legs, I dragged myself over, not envying the clammy grip I gave her hand as I followed dental assistant Julie down the hallway.
As she ushered me into the exam room, Julie immediately picked up on my visible distress and chattering teeth.
“What seems to be the problem today, Keith?” she asked softly, keeping her tone gentle and unhurried.
“T-tooth pain. Terrible, throbbing tooth pain,” I stammered out between ragged breaths, feeling like I might vomit at any moment.
Julie listened patiently and nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry you’re going through that. But you’re in excellent hands with Dr. Silvers — he’s really the best,” she reassured me.
Just then, a middle-aged man with greying hair and warm, crinkly eyes entered the room with a soft “Hello there!”
“H-hi,” I squeaked out feebly, unable to make eye contact as he pulled up a rolling stool.
“My name is Dr. Silvers. What seems to be the trouble?” he asked, his soothing tone instantly putting me a little more at ease.
I took a deep, shuddering breath before managing to speak.
“It’s my lower right molar, Dr. Silvers. Keeping me up at night with how bad it hurts.”
He gave a sympathetic nod. “Ooh, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all. Let’s get you fixed up and out of pain as quickly as we can. I’m going to take a quick look, okay?”
I flinched as he leant in closely to examine my aching tooth.
“Ah yes, I can see what’s causing the problem here. You have an infection and cavity that will require a root canal procedure,” Dr. Silvers explained patiently.
My heart plummeted at those words, and I felt lightheaded.
“A r-root canal?” I stammered out shakily.
Just the thought of having a drill burrow down into the inner sanctum of my tooth made me want to flee.
As if sensing my rising panic, Dr. Silvers placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Keith, I understand if you’re feeling very anxious right now. But I want to ease your mind — this procedure is not nearly as scary as it sounds. With modern techniques and anesthesia, you’ll remain completely comfortable.”
I must have looked utterly sceptical, because he gave me a warm smile.
“I’m well aware that you have some pretty serious dental fears and phobias. Why don’t you tell me more about what exactly has you so worried?”
Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath before the worries began tumbling out in a rush.
“Well…ever since I was a kid, I’ve been terrified of that gas mask thing you use for procedures. Just picturing it being lowered over my face makes me want to panic and run away screaming,” I admitted shakily.
“And I have a really bad phobia of needles too — I almost pass out just thinking about getting a shot or having my mouth numbed up.”
As I spoke, Dr. Silvers listened with a solemn, understanding expression, allowing me to vent my anxieties without judgement.
When I finished, he gave a slow nod.
“You’ve been carrying around some very heavy burdens related to dental care. I’m so sorry you’ve had those traumatic experiences that instilled such intense fears.”
His compassion and validation instantly helped put me more at ease.
Dr. Silvers then continued, “But I want you to know that under my care, those sources of dread simply won’t be issues. For patients with severe phobias like yourself, we have measures to make things go smoothly and comfortably.”
Looking me squarely in the eye, he explained, “First off, we don’t use those old-fashioned gas masks anymore.
We have modern anesthesia that just flows gently through a small nasal mask — no feeling of suffocation whatsoever. Perfectly comfortable breathing the whole time.”
I felt some of the tension in my shoulders begin to release at his reassuring words.
Dr. Silvers kept going, “As for the needles, we actually use a special numbing gel that does all the work without any injections needed for this procedure.
You’ll feel some cold sensation as it takes effect, but no dreaded pokes or pricks whatsoever. I’ll walk you through each step so nothing comes as a surprise.”
By this point, I could feel my racing heart finally starting to slow.
Never before had a dentist taken the time to so thoroughly understand and accommodate my specific fears and phobias. The considerate approach helped me feel heard, respected, and safe.
“Okay…okay, I can try to stay calm and do this,” I managed to say with a nod, taking a few steadying breaths. “Just please…go slowly and keep explaining what’s happening.”
Dr. Silvers gave me a warm, reassuring smile. “Of course, Keith. We’ll take this at whatever pace you need. My number one priority is keeping you comfortable and anxiety-free, I promise.”
With infinite patience, he began walking me through each step of the procedure.
First, he carefully applied the numbing gel to the area around my aching tooth.
“This may feel a bit cold and tingly at first, but it’s perfectly normal. Just let me know if you have any discomfort at all,” he explained in a soothing tone.
True to his word, the gel just caused a slightly chilled, dulling sensation — no sharpness or stinging at all.
As the area grew numb, Dr. Silvers continued reassuring me and explaining what would happen next.
“Excellent, now the area is all numbed up for me to begin working. You’ll feel some pressure sensations, but no pain whatsoever. If anything feels off, you just give me a signal and I’ll back off immediately.”
With Dr. Silvers’ calm narration guiding me through each step, the procedure ended up being a million times easier than I’d built it up to be in my mind.
The nasal anaesthesia allowed me to breathe freely and unobstructed the whole time. And not once did I feel the dreaded prick of a needle or burning sting of a numbing shot.
Occasionally, Dr. Silvers would pause to check in.
“How are you holding up, Keith? Any problems so far?”
“N-no, I’m okay so far,” I would reply, impressed by my own capacity to remain relatively relaxed, if still a bit shaky.
Before I knew it, the doctor was saying, “And we’re all done here! You made it through like a champ.”
As the anaesthesia wore off and the feeling returned to my mouth, I could already tell the constant, nagging ache was finally gone.
I immediately felt a great sense of relief and gratitude for Dr. Silvers.
“Thank you…thank you so much for your patience and for making this so much easier than I ever thought it could be,” I told him earnestly, grasping his hand to shake it firmly.
He gave me a kind smile in return.
“You’re very welcome, Keith. But really, this was a team effort between us. Your bravery and willingness to try to overcome your fears is what really made this a success.”
As I headed out to the front desk to schedule a follow-up appointment, I felt immensely proud of myself.
For the first time, I had confronted my severe dental phobias head-on instead of avoiding them. And I had finally experienced the compassionate, understanding care that made a seemingly insurmountable task manageable.
This experience taught me that even the most deep-rooted (no pun intended), intense fears can absolutely fade when you have the right support system in place.
I walked out of that office feeling liberated and hopeful, eager to finally get on top of my dental health after years of avoidance.
More importantly, I knew I needed to share my journey to try to empower others facing similar anxieties and phobias.
Writing this story and recounting every heart-pounding step was my way of releasing those old burdens I’d been carrying around for far too long.
My dream is that by candidly expressing my struggles, it might give someone else the courage to face their fears.
Because, as overwhelming as dental phobias can feel, the payoff of finding an understanding, compassionate provider makes the challenge more than worthwhile.
Yes, it requires bravery and the willingness to push past your comfort zones. But by taking it one small, deep breath at a time, you can get through anything.
So to anyone out there who has been putting off dental care due to fears and anxieties, please don’t wait any longer.
Do your research, ask questions, explain your specific phobias, and advocate for the accommodations you need.
Understanding your procedures and trusting your provider can make a world of difference in reducing anxiety.
Trust me, I know how tempting it is to keep avoiding, making excuses, and suffering through temporary band-aid solutions.
But I’m here to tell you that you CAN overcome this.
You have the strength to show up, be brave, and prioritise your health and wellbeing.
Just take it step-by-step, and know that getting this burden off your shoulders is so worth it in the end.
You’ve got this!
Thanks for reading…
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