What are your thoughts on the dentist? Do you actually look forward to those appointments? And let’s be honest, who enjoys the expense of cleanings or the work that needs to happen? It’s always a bit uncomfortable, especially when the hygienist gives you that skeptical look whenever you mention you’ve been flossing regularly.
Honestly, I could probably guess your answers without even knowing you.
During a recent dental procedure this past summer, while I was lying there with my mouth wide open, feeling the vibrations from the tools, my dentist casually mentioned how much he enjoys this kind of work. It struck me as a bit odd at the time, but I get it now.
Most of us associate dental visits with a mix of dread and necessity. We go because, well, what’s the alternative? The thought of toothaches and their consequences is much scarier than lying in a chair for 45 minutes while someone digs into your mouth. A little dental discomfort beats the pain of an untreated tooth, and a bad smile is far worse than spending money on cleanings.
Yet, let’s be real, there’s a common thread: we all kind of dislike visiting the dentist.
Toothache blues
I have to admit, I’ve started warming up to my dentist lately—particularly that guy who drops in at the end of my appointments just to tap on a few teeth and lay out the next steps. Maybe it’s just that over the past few years, I’ve been reflecting more on the impressive aspects of modern medicine.
As a kid, I was convinced they were exaggerating about dental issues. I mean, it often felt like recommendations were exaggerated or geared toward racking up bills, right? But now, I believe I trust dentists more than I ever did in my younger years.
This might sound a little nuts, but I’ve actually been looking forward to dental appointments these days.
Take my last experience this past summer: I needed a crown. Growing up, I was no stranger to candy and, well, let’s say my brushing habits weren’t the best. I think I figured my teeth would just… last forever. But they don’t, as I’ve painfully learned. Over the years, I had fillings due to my exuberance for sweets—Gobstoppers, Skittles, M&Ms, the list goes on. So, when the filling finally wore out and a crown was required, I didn’t mind the prospect too much.
Crowning glory
You might find it hard to believe, but I was genuinely excited about getting that crown. I’d had a similar procedure with the same dentist a few years prior, and it had gone smoothly. He anesthetized my mouth, worked his magic, and I walked away later with a lovely new tooth.
Same story this time. He numbed me again, drilled out the old filling, crafted a new crown on-site, and affixed it with precision. All while I was lying there, I couldn’t help but marvel at how far technology has come in dentistry. The assistant even used some laser tech to scan my mouth after the prep, and, I kid you not, the whole process took less than 90 minutes.
Can you imagine sharing that reality with someone from a couple hundred years ago?
Thinking about it, I shiver at the thought of enduring a toothache without modern pain relief. I don’t need to study dental history to guess it wasn’t a pleasant experience, to say the least. So, as much as I might instinctively dislike my dentist and his intimidating tools, reflecting on the progression of dental care has slowly but surely changed my perspective. Nowadays, I actually appreciate having a dentist in my corner as we approach 2026.
Drill, baby, drill
In that same procedure over the summer, I found it fascinating when my dentist expressed his passion for transforming decayed teeth into something better. You know, it really surprised me. He looked most alive when discussing his work.
At the dentist’s office, there’s a certain intimacy. You lie there as strangers, in a way, hover over you, digging around in your mouth. It can be a touch embarrassing.
You might catch yourself thinking, “Oh no, are they seeing how I neglected flossing again?” Needing a crown can feel like a personal failure, almost as though you’re apologizing for not taking better care of your teeth.
Hearing my dentist express his enthusiasm for the work was enlightening. It helped me see him more as a person than just a masked figure wielding tools. He genuinely wants to help, which, I suppose, took me a while to realize. Perhaps I’m growing fond of my dentist—more so than any other doctor I’ve seen.
Sure, he often delivers bad news. But he has the ability to fix nearly all the problems he diagnoses, which not every doctor can boast.
Believe it or not, my 13-year-old self would be stunned to learn that I, at 39, now actually appreciate visiting the dentist.
