Here is something I’ve heard at least once a day since practicing. It hasn’t been directed towards me as a person, but towards the profession.
“I hate the dentist”
I walk in to the exam room, introduce myself, and the first thing you tell me is that you hate what I am.
Not the smartest conversation starter, Sherlock.
You do realize that I’m going to be the one examining you and treating your neglected, festering, intraoral disease you call a mouth because you couldn’t be bothered twice a day to clean it?
Yet you hate the dentist. The only people who are capable of fixing your problem.
Maybe re-word your thoughts like:
“I’m scared of this place because I’m afraid it’s going to hurt since I have so many issues to fix”
“I don’t like needles can you help me get through this process?”
This would help me to actually want to help you more and be sympathetic towards what you are feeling. I didn’t put that rampant decay in your mouth. I didn’t make you drink Mountain Dew before bed since you were 12 and now all of your teeth are hurting. I’m here to help you. Don’t hate us. Don’t tell us how much you hate coming to us. Hate yourself for doing this to your own mouth.
Patients. . .