More Novocaine, Please: The Corporate Dentist Chair

I have to start by saying I LOVE my dentist and his entire team. I am 45 years old and have never had a cavity. Not one.

I love them because they take good care of me and because they somehow manage to tolerate me as a patient — which, trust me, is no small accomplishment.

Don’t get me wrong, I am very pleasant. But there are a few things in life that make me anxious the way a trip to the dentist does. There is flying (I have been known to ask a flight attendant if we were going down — we weren’t, it was turbulence) and mice. We once had a field mouse in the basement and I would knock on the door before going downstairs to give him enough time to leave if he was doing laundry.

The dentist chair, however, is a very specific kind of anxiety.

Not because of cavities. Nope. I have somehow escaped those.

It’s the other conversations that have made me come to expect the worst from each visit.

“You’re losing bone.”

“We need to drill here.” ((Technically they didn't say the word "drill," but what they use to clean teeth these days looks exactly like one, so I'm counting it as a threat.)

“You should probably come every three months instead of every six.”

So now, every three months, my lovely dental hygienist and I go through our very rehearsed routine.

After genuine pleasantries and conversation, I dive right in:

Me: You remember I have very sensitive gums and the water hose thingy hurts my teeth, right?

Dental Hygienist: Yes Melina, it’s right here in the notes.

M: And we’re going to do the same thing we always do?

DH: Yes. We’re going to apply Novocaine, numb the gums, use the gel, and then start the cleaning. And if anything feels uncomfortable, just raise your hand.

Then she calmly tells me when the needle is coming and reminds me to take long breaths.

I love them.

But I am still deathly afraid of the chair.

Lately, I’ve realized the modern job market triggers a very similar feeling. It has become my own personal corporate dentist chair.

While I do not love the current job market with the same passion I love my dental team, I know I am not alone in saying it gives many of us anxiety. I think part of the problem is that we have started expecting the worst from the process itself.

I have had this conversation with many professionals currently exploring new opportunities, and yes — it is scary.

The stories range from executive recruiters exploring questionable new business models (charging the job seeker), to companies that disappear after weeks of interviews and engagement.

We have all searched for opportunities before, but lately it feels different.

Many professionals have started expecting bad news — not because they lack confidence, but because the process itself has become emotionally exhausting. The bad news no longer arrives directly. It comes in the form of ghosting, endless interview rounds, vague rejections, or silence after weeks of engagement.

At least my dentist offers Novocaine first.

Given the number of “Applied” counts I see on LinkedIn job posts, it does not take a genius to know people are stressed. How exactly is a recruiting team expected to read through 800 resumes?

One hiring manager once shared with me that nearly 90% of the resumes received for a role did not match the qualifications listed in the job description. Meanwhile, there are job postings that have been sitting online for six months or longer.

Hmmm.

Why am I writing about this?

Because two weeks ago, during my most recent dental appointment, my hygienist had the drill ready to go and I suddenly thought to myself: “My God, my life is in this woman’s hands right now.”

And then I realized something else.

Our lives are not in the hands of companies or recruiters.

We still have agency.

We can control how we approach our search, who we choose to engage with, and perhaps most importantly, when to walk away from a process that no longer feels aligned, respectful, or productive.

I know this market will change. It always does.

In the meantime, do not isolate yourself. Reach out to your network. Make genuine connections. Meet someone for coffee. Right now, a personalized approach matters more than ever.

And as for me?

I’ll continue asking for Novocaine.