Linda Nolan admits she’s absolutely terrified of the dentist in her latest Mirror column as she opens up on the ‘silver lining’ of her cancer diagnosis

And now my teeth have fallen out, too.

Well, rather my trusty dental bridge, which had been fine for years up until now, leaving me with three gaps and identifying as a witch rather than a sheep for a change. I wouldn’t mind, but panto season is a long way off, I can’t even cash in.

And I’m absolutely terrified of the dentist, and completely fed up. Denise can’t understand it. She can’t believe with all I’m going through it’s still the thought of that reclining chair which remains The Worst Thing.

I felt that bridge coming loose. I told her before she went off to bingo on Sunday and she said, “It’ll be fine”, and as soon as her back was turned, it wasn’t. I text her: “Do you want me to courier my teeth over?”

I hadn’t a clue what to do about it as I never go to the dentist (clearly – why would anyone volunteer that?) so I don’t have one. And we all know how hard it is to get one. The one silver lining to having cancer – sorry folks, we do need them – is I rang up my nurse practitioner at the hospital and she promised to sort it.

Linda is absolutely terrified of the dentist (
Image:
Dave Benett/Getty Images for Hearst)

Linda also revealed she’s struggling to sleep (
Image:
Andy Stenning/Daily Mirror)
She got me referred and an appointment on Monday. My tooth fairy. But despite my contacts in high places, obviously I’ll need dragging there. This all stems from my memory of the school dentist when I was about nine.

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I can still see that big, black chair. I was screaming so hard this little, round man in glasses slapped me! If they try that again I’ll slap them back. I suppose as much as I’m terrified, what this really is is that straw that broke the camel’s back. (Or bridge).

Day to day I can get on with what I’m coping with, but when there’s one extra thing it all comes crumbling down. I’ve been a bit anxious and struggling to sleep for a week now and I’m not really sure why. It’s like that sometimes, it catches up.

It’ll be OK, I’ll be a big, brave soldier (and still get no badge). Then perhaps I need a new project, something to look forward to? Um, something to get my teeth into, maybe.

For more information or support about cancer, you can contact Macmillan Cancer Support or you can call 020 7940 1760 for advice.