Gripping the armrest is basically my signature move at the dentist, too. It’s funny—I swear my knuckles have gone white a few times, but it’s like my brain thinks holding on tighter will help me survive the cleaning or whatever’s happening. I tried bringing one of those little stress balls once, and it did help, but I kept worrying I’d accidentally fling it across the room if I jumped. Not my proudest moment.
Headphones are a mixed bag for me. Part of me loves the idea of tuning out, but every time the hygienist starts talking, I get startled and then I’m awkwardly yanking out an earbud mid-sentence. The tile counting thing hits home, though. Last time, I started making up stories about what the patterns in the ceiling looked like—one spot kind of looked like a lopsided bunny, which made me almost laugh out loud with my mouth wide open. Not ideal.
The breathing tricks work best for me, honestly. Slow inhales, slow exhales, just focusing on that instead of the weird noises. I’ve also found it helps to remind myself that it’s only temporary—like, in an hour or so I’ll be back in my car, probably eating something I shouldn’t right after a cleaning.
It’s wild how much these little rituals matter. I always thought I was just being dramatic about dental stuff until I started talking to friends and realized nearly everyone has their own “survival mode.” Even my cousin—who’s obsessed with whitening strips and all that—gets nervous and brings a lucky coin to every appointment. Guess we’re all in this together, just with different quirks.
The breathing tricks work best for me, honestly. Slow inhales, slow exhales, just focusing on that instead of the weird noises.
This is spot on. Focusing on my breath has gotten me through more than one appointment where I felt like bolting from the chair. I used to try listening to music too, but then I’d get all tangled up trying to answer questions with a mouth full of dental tools. One thing that helped a bit was asking the hygienist to give me a heads up before they started talking—kind of took away some of that surprise factor. And I totally relate to the post-cleaning treat... it’s like a little reward for surviving the ordeal.
I totally get the treat-afterward thing—my kiddo lives for that, honestly. The breathing stuff helps her too, but sometimes she just needs to know exactly what’s coming next. We started doing a quick “countdown” with the hygienist before anything noisy or weird happens, and that’s made a difference. I’m not sure music would work for her either; she’d probably just end up more distracted. The little wins (like a sticker or smoothie after) really do help make the whole thing less scary.
Love the countdown idea—honestly, that’s a trick I wish more folks used, not just kids. There’s something about knowing “okay, three seconds and then the weird noise starts” that helps take away some of the mystery (and panic). I’ve seen even adults relax a bit with a heads-up before the suction or that whiny polisher kicks in. Sometimes I’ll even say, “Alright, here comes the spaceship sound…” Gets a smile, at least.
Totally hear you on music being more of a distraction than a comfort for some kids. Every kid’s got their own thing, right? I’ve had little ones who want to listen to Taylor Swift on repeat and others who just want to focus on what’s happening. No one-size-fits-all, but it’s all about finding that groove.
The treat after is classic. Stickers, smoothies, those little plastic rings—they’re basically dental currency for bravery. I remember one kid who’d negotiate for two stickers if she made it through without tears. She was tough as nails when stickers were on the line.
Honestly, the little wins are huge. It’s not about making every appointment a party, but if you can stack up a few positive memories, it really does chip away at the dread over time. And hey, sometimes us adults could use a sticker or two for surviving the dentist too…
That “spaceship sound” trick is genius—I’ve used similar language and it really does take the edge off, especially for the kids who overthink every new sensation. I do think sometimes we underestimate how much just a simple heads-up can help, even for adults.
I’m with you on the music thing too. My own daughter actually gets more anxious with headphones on; she wants to hear what’s going on, not drown it out. It’s funny how some kids want a distraction and others need control.
And yeah, those little rewards matter way more than people realize. I still remember my own dentist letting me pick a sticker as a kid—honestly, that memory stuck longer than the actual fillings did. Maybe we should normalize giving out stickers to grownups too...
