I remember my early childhood dental visits as if they were only yesterday…the dentists name was Dr. Karet (I think that’s how it was spelled) and it was pronounced like the vegetable so as I child I heard the following “Dr. Carrot”. Dr Carrots office smelled like alcohol and old man and it had that 1970’s polyester style wall paper plastered over its walls. Everything about the dental office screamed at me as a kid that I needed to run in the opposite direction and I tried, I swear I tried. I fought tooth and nail with the dentist and his assistant and they fought back, HARD…I wriggled, screamed, shook that chair but they proceeded to try and hold me down to get the dental procedure done and I vowed that I would not go back there……..ever. Lucky for me my mother found a new dentist, a child friendly dentist, called a pediatric dentist….and I went to him and somehow got over my fear, until that dreaded day when I was in his office at 21 years old and he said the words I knew would one day come, but still they were shocking as ever….”Melissa, you need to find a new dentist….you’re not a child anymore, we can no longer carry you as a patient here.” Crap.

I spent the next couple of years in a sort of dental limbo and (more…)