Fear and freedom at the dentist

I descended Glastonbury High St at great speed on my bicycle, heart pumping and mind racing. En route to the dentist; I was late. A brief doorstop chat with my neighbour on the way out; he noticed my earbuds. Blocking out the drill? He chuckled.

My first time with this dentist I held myself rigid in the treatment chair, internally bemoaning the sparse interior. Plain white walls; no photos or distractions. Gagh! In reception afterwards I bumped into a yoga student and her partner. It was his first trip to and he was wringing his hands and scanning the room like a hunted prey, Is it ok what's he like? He babbled and gulped.

A moment of insight emerged, I trust my dentist and more importantly I trust myself that I have chosen a good dentist. I trust the universe. I trust everything!  I dont know that the poor guy was able to take this on, but I was pleased with my shift of awareness.

Like most people, I have a chronology of dentists and dental treatments and can vividly recall the emotional states that accompanied them. Dentistry is by its nature invasive, we are making ourselves physically vulnerable, opening a soft tender spot where very few are invited. We may be in pain or distress and the medical surroundings and scary technologies compound anxieties.

As a young child, my mother arranged with our family dentist that we would receive toys after check-up. Nice try. Then as a pre-teen I spent two years in orthodontic braces, then a private treatment requiring monthly visits to the city; my treats were a visit to Miss Selfridge and afternoon tea in Debenhams cafe.

By far my best experience of dentistry took place in India. A yoga purist, devoted to the point of obsession with astanga vinyasa; there was only one place to study: Mysore in South India. A long term resident on a six month visa I had the time to face the neglected state of my teeth, unattended to during my twenties. I took a  recommendation from a glossy haired american with a perfect smile.

Thence begun several sessions of treatment; root canal, crown work, cleaning and filling. Nothing less than a restoration project. I have never felt so relaxed or at ease in the chair. The paradoxes of India, confusing and beautiful were everywhere: a hand sewn cotton surgical mask contrasted with a certificate proclaiming  proficiency in titanium implants, an assistant in Nikes recording my details in a Victorian style ledger.

Most touchingly, during check-up, Raj had asked me my preferred music. The Beatles. So as treatment took place I was soothed by the Long and Winding Road and other favourites, played on mono cassette, exquisite!

Back to the present moment. No, I wont be wearing earbuds. In my new found freedom of staying present and alert and welcoming all experience, I want all senses to be fully alive. I have found it helps to breath deeply and affirm silently to myself: I trust myself, I am taking really good care of myself, Everything flows effortlessly. If anxiety escalates I reach for a pleasant memory, singing on the beach with friends at sunset works like a charm. These techniques have enabled me to have three small fillings without anaesthetic; not because I like pain particularly, I choose to avoid medication.

Today I fluffed the timings, arrived late and we had to reschedule. In the past I would have spiralled into self-blame and criticism. Now I know differently. Hmm so what''s happening here? Self-sabotage? No I dont like the sound of that label. An act of self-love from the sub-conscious, a dry run, a necessary step between booking the appointment and actually taking treatment. I love that my sub-conscious is taking care of me!

Here's to clean, strong and healthy teeth and positive outcomes at the dentist for all!