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How thinking about art made going to the dentist less unpleasant.

Is there anyone who enjoys going to the dentist for anything other than a cleaning?


My sweet little Heidi looks “ferocious,” but she won’t be going to the dentist!

After the novocaine

I think of things to pass the time. I decorate, sketch a painting in my head, and write stories, which I’ll never remember even though I pretend I will.

You get the idea. I try to distract myself and not focus on what’s going on inside my mouth.

I try to block the awful noise of the drill.

In the middle of my recent, not-so-bad-this-time visit, I thought: Wait, my dentist is an artist. This is her art. Her artistry. Her creativity.

She’s sculpting in there, choosing a shade to match the rest of my teeth, aligning my bite, and smoothing everything out.

My mouth is her canvas. The dental implements are her “brushes.”

Silly? Maybe. Did it help pass the time and make the visit a little less uncomfortable? Yes. Whatever it takes.

After the final rinse

I told my dentist that she’s an artist. She agreed and was so happy. I meant it.

Imagine if a dentist fixed a cavity or slapped on a crown and didn’t pay any attention to how it fit or matched the rest of your teeth.

We don’t want Picasso’s cubist period in there. Definitely not.

So I’m thrilled that my dentist is an artist who pays attention to her craft.




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