Going Dental...all Over the Place

Have you ever gone dental crazy at the dentist's office? I have. Twice. Once, a really long time ago--but I've blocked it from memory so I don't really remember why. The second time? Yesterday.

On Saturday night, a crown on my back tooth, broke off. So, I headed into the dentist Monday morning to get it fixed (DH was home this morning to tend the sickies--Savvy and Aussie).

Heading into the dentists office, I assumed they would slap on a temporary cap and schedule me an appointment when they had more time. But, as the cursed luck would have it, a couple of their morning appointments didn't show--so they had plenty of time to gas, needle, drill, dig, mold & polish me--2 1/2 hours as a matter of fact.

I'm not generally a freak at the dentist. But, yesterday--there was no warning. I went in expecting a gentle nudge -- and left with a jaw so numb--it felt like I'd been punched by the Governor or California. So, as you judge the story I'm about to tell--I hope you'll lower the bar a bit.

It all began very innocently -- with an offer of laughing gas to calm me before two nasty shots were administered. I can't say that I love the gas. I don't hate it - but usually when they ask me if I want it I tell them no. It just makes me feel funny--(and not in a haha laughing gas is the best comedian ever kind of way either) and sometimes a little queasy to my stomach. For some reason, when they asked if I wanted gas? I said, Sure. Why. Not.

Then came the shots. One in the roof of my mouth. One in my gum. Yes. It. Hurt. Very. Much. I kept wishing that the laughing gas would knock me out. With a death-grip on the chair--and a few deep breaths--I almost cried made it through fine.

Now, loyal readers, what I'm about to say will probably make you laugh hysterically. You'll think I'm bearing a falsehood. But, what my next statement is the truth. I tell no lie. Here it is:

I do not have a big mouth.

{Clarification:

Big mouth--in the sense of

open wide...not...

..."man, will she ever shut up?"}

So when the Dr. put a big rubber block in my mouth to prop it open...and my mouth was open so wide I couldn't swallow...I'll admit it...I freaked out.

With the prop in place the dentist began to drill. I tried to find that happy place...that place where swallowing wasn't just a luxury but a way of life...but I failed. As soon as the dentist took his hand out of my mouth, I ripped out the block and swallowed--then replaced the block back into my mouth. The hygienist and dentist looked at other and then back to me--a little strangely. Little did they know, it would get stranger.

I tried to lay quietly as the dentist grinded my tooth. I tried to lay quietly and not freak out since I couldn't swallow when I felt like it. I tried to lay quietly as I searched for my happy place.

Have we established the fact that I tried to lay quietly? Good. Because--all of a sudden I started to get all hot and dizzy. I thought I was going to pass out. The doc has just asked for some other tool to stick in my mouth. When without even realizing what I was doing - I ripped the gas mask off my face, sat up, and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Are you done with the nitrous oxide ?" the hygienist asked, her eyes wide open.

Oh, I'm done honey--I thought. "Ummm. Yes, I think so," I said very calmly, like nothing freaky had just happened.

I laid back down and they commenced with the grinding, the drilling, the...you get the picture.

Four more times during my long procedure--I removed the block from my mouth to swallow. Four more times, the dentist and his lovely assistant looked at me a little strangely.

Then, the doc began to prep me with a fancy wooden splinter -- not sure what it was for --but I'm pretty sure it wasn't meant to drop down my throat. "Don't swallow that!" he said, as if I was so nuts with the swallowing at this point--I might have attempted such a thing.

Finally, the torture was finished. All that was left, was to get the mold of my back tooth so they could make a crown. As she was suctioning around my back tooth to get it dry and such--she slipped a little to far down my throat and gagged me with her suctioner - to the point I almost threw up--in her face.

At this point, I began to bribe myself like I do my kids. Myself said to myself, "Now, Nicole, if you can avoid doing one more nutty thing, I'll buy you a diet coke at Harts, a big pink sugar cookie, and I'll let you take a nap when you get home."

I realized I had finally found my happy place! (of course--it was about 2 hours too late..but still).

Thankfully, the temporary cap was cemented in place. I didn't freak out TOO much - I mean, considering what I had been through--I totally could've went dental all over the place.

And yes, myself rewarded myself with a diet coke at Harts on the way home.

Confession Time: When's the last time you went dental at the dentist?