Anyone who knows me well will be aware of my irrational fear of dentists. My siblings may recall my teenage screams echoing down the corridor during check up appointments. In those days, my mum would bundle us into the car and take us on an hour’s drive to Cheltenham to our Swedish dentist who was a friend of a relative. Only in later years did I realise that he reminded me of the child-catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Hence my hang ups. I mean no offence to said dentist, but as a child it’s easy to make these unintentional and unconscious connections.
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Yesterday afternoon I found myself unexpectedly paying a visit to a dentist here in Crete. Driving to the village of Vamos (about 6 km away) the car was registering 42.5 degrees Celsius. To say it was hot was an understatement. Even the air con was having to work harder than usual and the heat wasn’t helping the sick feeling I had in my stomach.
I was experiencing intense pain in a tooth which wasn’t going away. Thankfully, a friend, who lives on the island, came to my rescue. In a flurry of WhatsApp messages, after giving me the number of her dentist, she patiently alleviated my fears, assuring me that, in her experience, he was sympathetic to nervous patients. She even made the appointment for me because I freely admitted to her that I would happily procrastinate when it came to anything dentistry. When she offered to ring him, I was so grateful.
The closer the appointment, the growing concern and whilst driving through the deserted winding country roads, I was discovering that nerves mixed with exceptionally high temperatures produced copious amounts of sweat. Wiping my forehead, repositioning the car aircon vent and taking timely deep breaths whilst trying to recall some of my usual pre-dentist meditation tracks did nothing to stop the sweat dripping down my face.
Upon arrival in Vamos, I reluctantly walked up to the dark green door which stood on an empty street – no one else was out in this heat. It was an unassuming building and if you were just driving past, you probably wouldn’t even have realised that it was a practising dentist. In the relentless Cretan summer sun, a faded sign quietly acknowledged the presence of the business. With some degree of hesitation, I was aware that I was venturing into the unknown to a strange dentist in a foreign country but I knew that I had to overcome my fear in order to eliminate the pain.
I entered the small building and I felt my body involuntarily sigh with a slight sense of relief (yet still tensely clutching muscles) as I walked into a smart reception area which was tastefully decorated with choice pieces of furniture. The dark wood and cool air welcomed calmness, faith and encouraged a positive aura.
The dentist leaned his head around the door from the adjacent room and, with a smile, he welcomed me. I had noted from the sign on the outside door that he had kindly opened his surgery almost an hour earlier than his usual hours to accommodate my emergency. Moments later, I was in ‘the chair’ and, glancing around, I noticed the simplicity of the bare stone walls, the traditionally tiled floor and a beamed high ceiling, all which thoughtfully complemented the modern dentistry equipment which gave the room its purpose. Gentle music was playing, the air conditioning unit was successfully cooling the room and so I bravely settled down as the investigation into my tooth problem began.
‘You need a root canal,’ he explained as he turned to get the injection ready.
‘What? You do it now?’ I asked filled with trepidation mixed with an abundance of sweat trickles. (In the UK, it was usual to have to make another appointment for the actual work to be done which gave further delay – a welcomed delay in my book!)
He smiled and it was the sweetest and calmest of smiles that put me at such ease for which I was truly thankful. I knew I had absolute faith in what he was about to do, but at the same time, I couldn’t quite shake off the image of Steve Martin as the psychopath dentist in Little Shop of Horrors. (Watch it if you haven’t.)
Forty five minutes later, I’d had the prep work for a root canal, been prescribed antibiotics for the abscess and a follow up appointment had been made for a few days time. I felt confident and calm: the immediate, welcoming, no-fuss nature of my Cretan dental experience was refreshing. I left with a smile.
Let Luce! 