Yea, though I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I had health insurance, and I returned. From the dentist.
Fear of the dental arts came to me at an early age. My family was poor and visited a city clinic for dental care. When I was about ten I had two fillings without anesthesia, which wasn't covered by state insurance. The dentist cared for several patients at once, so I was left in the chair with a mirror trained on the hollow shells of two molars for an hour while he battered away at someone else's grill.
Now I'm on a regular check-up schedule and seldom get cavities. Yet visits to the dentist still remind me of those evangelical 'hell houses' that were all the rage in the 90's.