Casa de Clemmons: Epidural anyone?

Epidural anyone?

I went to the dentist yesterday. Normally this is not a dreaded event...get some shiny teeth, free floss, nothing too terrible. But not yesterday.

I have only had dental work done once in my life. (other than yesterday) I was a bit... rebellious maybe... or just delusional in my younger days. When I went off to college I had not a single cavity, no problems with my dents and my braces had just been removed. I was free!!!

So with this new found freedom, I did what any other rational, intelligent 17 year old would do...I quit going to the dentist. Really...I know, sad and pathetic, but true. When I finally did return to get my teeth cleaned about 2 years later (can't remember why I decided that it was then important...I certainly did not gain that much sense by 19) I had 6 cavities. I was shocked! And indignant! After all, I had never had a cavity in my life. This couldn't be MY fault!

So I went to have them filled. A few seconds into the procedure it was obvious that novocain did not have the desired effect of numbing. Without going into detail, the event was terribly traumatic and as a result, I am now one of those people that checks "yes" on the box at the dentist office surveys that ask if you fear dental treatment. (I usually also add some little asterisks and exclamation points just so they get it.)

This is all background to...da dum da dum da dum (scary music starts...)

yesterday. But last week first.

Last week I went in to get my teeth cleaned. No big deal. (free floss, remember?) All went well. Hygienist complements me on my dental hygiene. I'm all glowing and smiles. Enter Dr. J. (real name concealed to protect the innocent...namely her.)(another side note. I really like my dentist. I have gone to her for 11 years. She is very competent, thorough, kind and compassionate...I hope she still likes me.)

Anyway, Dr. J comes in and chats a bit and examines me and I hear her sigh. (she knows my dental fears) My chest tightens and I really don't want her to talk anymore, I am ready to go home! But, to my serious bummedness, she talks anyway.

It seems the old cavities of yesteryear appear to be corroding or ick around them or something bad that means they are failing and need to be replaced. I stiffen and ask her if she is REALLY sure that is necessary. She looks sadly at me and says yes, sticks a mirror in my mouth and tries to show me what she is looking at, and assures me we will work together to try and make it not too traumatic.

I sigh inwardly and walk woodenly with her to the desk to book my date in the torture chamber. She is saying kind, sweet words and I am trying to think of ways to convince her that I really need general anesthesia for this.

The date is set...and it comes...WAYYYYYYY to quickly.

I go in yesterday and played my only card. I told her I had refused the epidural when I had my first child and I wanted to cash in now! Whadda you think? She patted me on the shoulder and said more reassuring words. (about this time, I was wishing I had asked for some xanax, both for my sake AND hers.)

I was a miserable experience, (I even peeked at the window once to see if it was escapable at one point when I was alone in the room, but alas, it was a single pane of glass.) but the novocain did work pretty well. (actually I am still somewhat numb today 27 hours later, she did tell me that she gave me a whopping dose, I told her "Thank you. I'm good with that.")

She wanted to replace three fillings and an hour and 15 minutes into it, she stopped and said it was much more involved (read icky and down in the nerve) than she expected and she thought that one was enough for the day. (Not due to my behavior, I had my eyes tightly shut with headphones on and was trying to be really cooperative so it would all go away.) I said "so I have to come BACK??? and do this AGAIN???" Poor Dr. J said yes, explained some things and I thanked her for her kindness and again went to the dreaded scheduling counter.

So if you see me in the next few weeks, be kind if I seem grumpy. It's been a rough day.

Posted by stephanie at June 9, 2005 04:15 PM

Ok....where to start?.....

I had this VERY SAME and distinctly eerie experience not 6 months ago. Complete with torturous drilling and filling and screaming. Well, I didn't really scream. But I wanted to!

Out of my 28 teeth (due to having braces, I had "extra teeth" removed. Just call me "Carny"), 15 were affected. So, after 5 (or was it 6) dental visits CHOCK FULL of drilling and all that nasty icky smoke and novacain and painful jaw aches, etc. I am now free from the clutches of my evil dentist (she's not really evil, in fact, I really like her, her son was down the hall from Lydia in the hospital and I saw her almost daily for a week or so!). So here I sit with my tender mouth and it took 5 (maybe 6) visits over a period of 4 months and now it's almost time to go see her again. Please believe that I don't want to do this.

So, I completely sympathize AND empathize! Even now, 3 weeks after the last horrid dig, my teeth are still quite sensitive.

Not to upset you or anything. Do you want me to go with you? (Mostly serious suggestion)

Posted by: angie at June 10, 2005 06:54 AM