Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Maybe not enough valium, way too much novocain, and eventually I'm drooling on myself

Today I finally got a crown (well the temporary one) put on a tooth that had a root canal 4 years ago.  I am honestly afraid of the dentist.  I had a dentist I liked back at our old house who did not tell me I needed a crown, but I took my good ol' time finding a new dentist here & she told me I needed one (or else, apparently, the tooth can break... look, I'm not a dentist.)  Anywho, today was the day.  I had my Valium at the ready, thanks to a very bad experience with a filling during which they could not, no matter how hard they tried, numb my tooth.  That was a white knuckle ride on the pain train.  After that, I would have NO dental work done without happy pills first.  Now, in my current state of residence, they cannot prescribe anxiolytics.  I had to take an expired Valium left over from my old dentist.  I was a little fuzzy for a short period of time, but not nearly fuzzy enough OR for long enough... but oh well.  It had to do.  At least I didn't sing crazy little made up songs for them... Ever do that?  Oh, me neither.

So everything was going fine, until they went to replace a nearby filling that was reaching the end of it's days, and found out that was the tooth the other doctor couldn't numb, either.  Apparently he didn't fully remove the cavity before filling it (probably due to my pain), and it had gotten much worse underneath.  Well, surprise surprise... they couldn't numb the tooth, either.  So, the Valium got me through the door, but didn't help much in the chair!  After over 20 sticks with the novocain, seriously, I could not feel much of my face.  I didn't even know where my tongue was.  She asked me to bite a few times, and I had to tell her to let me know when I was biting, because I couldn't tell.  She asked me to bite one last time, and I made a funny face because I realized I was biting on my tongue, and that's why my teeth wouldn't close.  But that damn tooth, still super painful.  She said it may need a root canal.  They can knock me out, thankyouverymuch.  I'm not doing that again.  That is enough of this tomfoolery. 

The best part wasn't me slurring my answers to her (99.9% from the excessive novocaine... only 0.1% early on from the valium, unfortunately), and it wasn't the adorable Droopy the Dog face that accompanied the novocain overkill, it was the dentist dropping my tooth on the floor.

So, the little crown "tooth" they put over your old tooth (which they whittle down to a nubbin), needs to be shaped and such... so she's working on this crown with some little spinning tool... when it catches the crown and flings it across the room.  The dentists look of horror was quickly replaced by laughter as I yelled "Five second rule!!!"  Of course, it was a little slurry, but the hygienist and the doc got it, and were quick to assure me they had things to clean it with before putting it back in my mouth.  Apparently "A little dirt never hurt." is frowned upon in dentistry.

My Dad was watching the baby, with great success I might add, in the waiting room.  We had to pick up my oldest son at school, so my Dad treated everyone to lunch after that.  On the way home, I was sipping my drink... which entailed holding the one side of my mouth closed in order to get anything out of the straw, and then trying to hold it closed until I swallowed.  I only learned about that second part after an entire mouthful of soda fell out of my face onto my hair. 

After all that, my face hurts.  I'm not up for eating, and not even too thrilled about drinking.  All those shots of novocain, and the painful drilling.  I am hoping tomorrow goes better.  Also, I'm not allowed to floss that tooth.  Those who know me best, know I have some obsessive compulsive issues, and flossing is one of them.  It's driving me crazy (yeah, I know, I'm already there...) not being able to floss that tooth, and in the proper order that I floss my teeth.  (That space is #7, every single time.)  However, even though I'm feeling a bit bummed about my sore mouth and flossing disruption, my kids kept me smiling today.  As a bonus, I'll share a little kid-ism from my oldest son, today.

Son Mom!  I forgot, there is sauce in my pocket!

Me No kidding.  

His pocket was, quite literally, oozing BBQ sauce all over the place.  Apparently, claiming he was doing some sort of magic trick, he had hidden the BBQ sauce packet in his pocket.  When he plopped down on our driveway to color with chalk, explosion!  And "sauce pocket" was created.  There is never a dull moment... or one that doesn't require stain remover. 

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