Dental Neglect

Yesterday I was visiting with my good friend, Amy who is in the middle major dental regimen. Her teeth are crumbling and she is having the teeth re-drilled and having the fillings replaced; just really weird work an a lot of it. She is going to the dentist every week an I don’t’ know for how long. As we visited it came out that Amy is as terrified of the dentist as I am. And I am almost phobic.

My first dentist was a guy named Ralph Frogley, Dr.Frogely was a family friend, actually a friend of my parents, I might clarify, not mine. I think I maws five or six and I was being seen by the dentist probably as my pre-school physical. ( It was weird to be that as I related this experience to Amy how clear the experience came back to me. The medical smell of the event, the largeness of the people round me). I do not clear recollection of my older brother Ross, prepping me—actually now that I think of it Ross did tell me a story, early in my life about getting a shot in his mouth and how the needle felt as if it was piercing his very eye!!! Ross probably did tell me this before my trip to Frogley’s office. Anyway, I still remember being lifted into the chair, having the cloth bib ( they used cloth then non of this paper stuff, this was probably 1955)being put round my neck and then opening my mouth. This time period was also way before dentists wore gloves as they worked inside your mouth. Ralph had his fingers in my mouth I KNOW but he must have had the probe in my too because in a blinding flash of pain so magnificent to rend my psychic from that instant forward I brought my teeth down like a steel tarpon anything which was in my mouth. The “Frog” must have found cavity and probed it. I just “reflexed” pure and simple. The organism was protecting itself.

I can still remember Dr. Frogely, a study of controlled range, quietly unclamping the bib from round my neck, the assist backed up against the wall, and gently but firmly lifting me out of the dentist’s chair and carrying me at arms( as one would a wild animal) length me in to the waiting area and giving me to my mother with the instruction that she had better find another dentist for the lad because I would never be seen by Dr. Frogley again professionally.
It must have been ten years before I was to see another dentist. My teeth were a mess and the pain must have been great to get me back into the dental chair but I went and had gazillion caps placed on my molars and after what seemed like months of work I was done. Somewhere along the line some dentist somewhere indicated that I had really strong teeth which was a saving grace. But I am phobic. I know this. It takes major oral pain to generate the motivation I need to be seen by a dentist and I have a great dentist. Right now I am ok, but I fear my time in the chair is coming and probably sooner then later.