Whole tooth about my dentist phobia

WorKInG out how my fear of the dentist started is easy. I was born during World War II, and after it was over, my older brother and sister took delight in frightening the life out of me with horror stories about it. We lived in Greater london, which wasn’t targeted like inner london, but when visiting family we saw the devastation caused by bombs. soon after the war, a new dentist arrived at the bottom of our road. He was German. He didn’t speak much and was very serious and stern-looking. obviously, my siblings had a field day with this one. they said he had been one of the ss guards in the war who took out people’s teeth without gas or anaesthetic. one day, while sitting in the dentist’s waiting room with my mother, my fear must have been visible because a neighbour gave me half a crown to be brave — that was two-and-a-half weeks’ worth of pocket money! I remember thinking how kind she was. but it was, in hindsight, the worst thing she could have done. When my name was called, I ran out of the waiting room, hot-footed it across the road to Woolworths and spent the lot on sweets before devouring them all. It was worth all the trouble I got into when I got home. after that, I only ever went to the dentist when the pain of toothache became unbearable. my brother and sister have a lot to answer for — not least the number of gaps in my mouth while they both have full sets of white gnashers!

Mary Gilbert, Walton-on-the-Naze, Essex.