By: Kristene A. Doyle, Ph.D.
I just got back from the dentist. I haven’t been to see her in, well, let’s just say a long time. An embarrassingly long time. Why did I go? I began to have some pain in my tooth while I was in Turkey this past Sunday. I promised myself that if I was able to get through the horrific 11-hour plane ride that evening without a major toothache, I would immediately make an appointment with the dentist. I lucked out, and so I honored my promise. When I called, the receptionist asked for my name and she punched it into the computer. As a preemptive strike, I admitted it had been a looooong time, and asked her not to judge. She responded: “I don’t judge. It’s good to have you back.”
If only the dental hygienist was the same. She looked at my records and clearly, she was judging. Lecturing me that I wouldn’t be in this predicament if I came in more often. Thank you Captain Obvious. I started making myself angry about her judging me and giving me a lecture. Given the amount of time I was going to be in the chair, I decided to de-escalate my anger by practicing what I preach to my clients on a daily basis. My internal dialogue (obviously, considering her hands were in my mouth) was the following- “She’s most probably judging me right now. She has the right to think of me as an irresponsible, neglectful adult. SO WHAT! Who cares what this woman thinks about me and my tooth issues.” That statement alone calmed me down. When she was done lecturing me and cleaning my teeth, I decided to try a tactic not all too familiar to me. I decided I was going to kill her with kindness. I thanked her profusely for her advice (come in more regularly for cleanings- again thank you for what I already knew). In turn, she changed her demeanor towards me. She laughed, smiled, and said she would see me soon. Then she gave me my dental doggie bag consisting of a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some floss.
So…now let’s look at how I got here. I hate the dentist. I realize that it’s not the actual procedures that are done such as putting on a crown or dealing with a cavity. It’s that dreadful sound of the tools. As a result of me telling myself that I can’t stand the sound, I avoided the dentist for a good deal of time. My anxiety about those stupid tools created an avoidance that eventually caught up to me with a negative dental consequence. And who’s the fool here? What do I mean I can’t stand the sound? I’ve tolerated it for decades. Why do I continue to con myself into believing something that is simply not true- only to have negative consequences? Because I’m human. I’m not going to beat myself up for this (and the dental hygienist took care of that one for me). I’m going to choose to learn from my experience. I’m going to change my thinking. And floss every night.