*nods thoughtfully* You know, I had a friend who had that exact same phobia, and it came into play when she got her wisdom teeth too--she was terrified of both the vulnerability of being knocked out, and of the sense of not having control.
What do you think would help you feel more comfortable? Maybe you could arrange a meeting to talk to the dentist beforehand, so that you can get to know him a little bit and develop a sense of trust. You could write down a list of questions to ask him--things about the procedure, or maybe just little things about him personally, like whether he has a family or why he became a dentist.
Alternatively, ask if it's possible for someone to sit in on the procedure, your dad maybe, so that someone you trust is in the room while you're out. I had my hubby holding my hand through the whole procedure, and it helped more than any laughing gas.
And before you protest, none of that is unusual at all--most surgeons are happier if you do ask questions, especially if you're nervous, and are happy to make accommodations to make you more comfortable. Imagine being the dentist and operating on someone who was clearly terrified--of course they'll want to help you feel better, it makes their job easier and leads to good word of mouth for their office. There is nothing wrong with expressing your fears and asking for what you need!
ETA: TELL HIM YOU'RE ANEMIC. It is not as crucial for him to know as your anxiety, but both are very important. He's going to be performing surgery on you! He absolutely needs to know these things!
And while you're at it: don't forget to breathe. Seriously. Right now. Clear your mind, think of nothing, and concentrate on breathing deeply and evenly for a minute. When you're anxious you breathe more shallowly, causing you to become more anxious because you're not getting as much air. Don't forget to take care of yourself!
Hushpiper has great advice! I wish I'd had this kind of guidance before I started facing scary medical procedures. (Or scary anything, really.)
I have had a lot of dental work, including getting all 4 of my wisdom teeth out around age 15 too. (As did both my brothers -- we all inherited great big teeth from my mom's family and narrow jaws from my father's family. Thanks, folks.)
Luckily, in that surgery I had the same out-cold experience as Piney. It wasn't a ton of fun recovering (especially because I came down with a bad cold in the process), but it was totally endurable. I had the same easy anesthesia a couple of years ago when I had to have a bunch of tissue removed from my throat (to address sleep apnea), and when I've had various adult-type medical tests that require sedation.
I may have an advantage, though -- my grandfather was a doctor and my mother is totally "Dr. Mom," so I grew up around people who don't tense up in medical situations. (Which is good, because my parents have had to go to the hospital or the dentist a lot. I think Minna said something about her family being the same way...)
For lesser dental work, i.e. where it's just a local anesthetic, not a general one, I've developed a crude kind of self-hypnosis. Basically, I distract myself by thinking about something complicated, either multiplication problems or remembering all the words in Hawaiian that I know.
And before you say, "Well, it's easy for you -- you have nerves of steel," I was reminded of my limitations in a very humbling way. Shortly before I had my sleep-apnea operation, I signed up for an experiment in which the researchers measure your sleep patterns while inside an electro-magnetic-resonance image.... whatchamacallit... (I'm sure somebody here remembers what it's called.) Basically, one of those helmet things that measures your brain activity in different parts.
I had to be stuffed head-first into one of those and try to fall asleep while the machine made a rhythmic clanking louder than when you put tennis shoes in the dryer. (THUNK-a, THUNK-a, THUNK-a, and not even a Donna Summers vocal to accompany it...)
It turned out I am severely claustrophobic! Aaaaggghhh! If I were poor Winston Smith in "1984," and got sent to
Room 101, they wouldn't have to threaten me with rats -- just put my head in a plastic cylinder.
I tried my hardest to dissociate myself from my unattractive, fluorescent-lit surroundings and picture myself out on the prairie, gazing up into a limitless, starlit night sky. No dice.
The experimenters could tell from the way my nails were digging into my palms that I was never going to relax enough for the study to work. After several tries, they pulled me out of the
death tube MRI and said I was free to go.
It occurs to me now that if one of the handsome research assistants had distracted me by massaging my feet (or something), I probably wouldn't have had the mental bandwidth to freak out about the helmet. Hmmm... I wonder if the National Institutes of Health have grants to look into non-chemical anesthetic techniques?
EDIT: A few months ago, my younger brother had to have an MRI test. And he, the big tough athlete, panicked the same way I did. Liquid Valium, intravenously, did the trick for him. (I couldn't have it in the experiment *because* it was an experiment -- they were trying to see what natural, unsedated brain waves look like.)
My point is just that there *are* solutions that may not be evident on first sight.
More seriously, I think Hushpiper is absolutely on target with her advice on how to address your anxieties (both the original message and her update).
I wish you all the best!
