Chemical Reaction

"This will just pinch a little."

Yeah, feels like when you zip your skin up in your jacket, and hurts even longer. But, I'm ok. I can do this. Really. I can really do this.

Then my heart starts to pound, like when the lights are all out when you walk in the front door and you hear somebody moving around upstairs in the dark, or when you realize you just missed getting sideswiped by some idiot driver.

The pain is not much better because she's moved on to another spot and although I can feel that dead warm feeling spreading, it isn't reaching the part where she is now "pinching".

My heart is really pounding now, my lips quivering from having been stretched open so long. I try to keep my tongue from moving around, but it's a curious little stinker and keeps moving over to the needle in my mouth.

Then, the pounding in my chest becomes overwhelming and just as I'm about to leap off the table, the dentist removes everything from my mouth and moves the light blinding my eyes. I sit bolt upright, and then it comes...

I cover my face with my hands and with a small squeaky voice (that doesn't sound like me) I ask for tissues. I feel the dentist and her assistant exchange a glance behind me. I warned them!

"I'm sorry honey, what do you need?" I hear the almost-grandmotherly assistant ask.

And then the tears roll. No, not the quiet gentle-like-summer-rain tears that slide down your cheek during a heart-tugging Hallmark commercial, but the shoulder-shaking, chest heaving, trembling shudders and sobs that come when you unexpectedly hear- after an exhausting and bad day of work, that your dog died. Yup, the uncontrollable kind that won't stop. I can feel the second exchange behind me.

"It's ok... there's no more needles. We're all done. It shouldn't hurt in just a minute."

I half-laugh (you know the kind, the one that sorta comes out strangled through the tears). Needles don't bother me at all. It's the drugs that affect me.

I have an overwhelming chemical reaction to the anesthesia used for numbing. I've told these most recent dentists that I have this reaction. I knew they wouldn't take me seriously.

The first time this happened I was 8 months pregnant with Megan and the doctor ordered a huge amount of Morphine to "calm" me down (I think it was more for me, although it was also for the contractions). A few seconds after the nurse injected the drug, I started sobbing. She didn't even finish giving me all the medicine because I was sobbing like my life was ending. This happened again when I was 6 months pregnant with Veronica and had a root canal done. I sat up so fast that I hit my head on the light, and the dentist pushed himself away from my chair and was really freaked out. He said he'd NEVER seen a reaction like that before.

Apparently, morphine derivatives (but not codeine) make me Sob with an overwhelming feeling of despair and terror (although the latter I think is a conditioned response from the epinephrine used in the injection). Almost as fast as the medicine clears my system (a matter of maybe five minutes), I'm fine again. After the sobbing stops, I'm not worried, sad, or scared. I'm just bone-weary exhausted.

Have I ever mentioned that I absolutely, with all my passion in body, mind, and soul H-A-T-E the dentist? I always come away scarred- emotionally, physically, mentally, and financially.

Dentist, round 3?

Since my tooth became unbearable (it's really been bothering me since I was pregnant with Miranda!), and I had a root canal in April, the dentist finally got around to getting the crown going. Two weeks ago they drilled and drilled and dug another huge hole in my (THANKFULLY) numb tooth. They left a little filled stump there in my mouth that my tongue could NOT get used to. And, they said, "Don't chew on your left side".

Now, I'd gotten used to not drinking cold things on that side (three years of not being able to tolerate anything cold on a tooth is good for reinforcing habits), but NOT CHEW!??!

Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, because as they reminded me today, at my second of three appointments with the dentist (not including the initial evaluation followed a few pain-blurred days later by a visit to the endodontist for the root canal), the final crown won't be ready for three weeks.

Ummmm, I'm going to be in Utah in three weeks... can we speed that up? Well, it might be ready in two. I schedule the appointment, hoping the lab that they send the molds to that make the crown will do a perfect job shaping and forming the tooth, and that it will arrive in time for my appointment (two days before I leave for Utah) and I won't have to worry about a temporary crown.

A temporary crown that is as rough as sandpaper, that bulges into my buccal mucosa (or inside cheek), that is VERY tender right now (cuz they had to shoot the gums full of lidocaine so they could wrap a tight band around the still-inflammed (and bleeding!) gum to get a good impression mold for the final crown), that cracked three times while the assistant was trying to make the temporary. Not very reassuring that the assistant spent half the time talking (while trying to make the temporary) about how the temp crown falls out all the time, but don't worry, here's a little package of cement, and just squeeze some of that on the inside of the tooth and pop it right back in there... oh and if the cement leaks out around the tooth, don't worry, it'll flake off. And there's enough here in this packet to glue it in six times.

WHAT!??! I have to deal with THAT for possibly the next six weeks? AARGH! Although, in consideration, maybe it's better to deal with a temporary crown I can pop back on with some cement than to be in Utah and have something happen to a shoddily made permanent crown that cracks or breaks off.

Anyway, the last three weeks have been good training for not chewing on that side. I might just keep it that way for the next six. Maybe I could just not get the final crown... but I've paid for it (OUCH!) and this temporary crown is not very smooth, comfortable, etc. (see above complaints)

I really hate going to the dentist...

Sidenote: While at the dentist, I overheard a young women (apparently in her 20s) who called her mom practically in tears. She had fallen on the stairs while at work and completely cracked her front tooth- almost at the gumline! She said it was throbbing, and apparently the tooth was bleeding (so much for patient confidentiality- I got most of this information from the assistant making my temp crown). I understand the young woman was immediately referred to an endodontist and was to have a root canal that afternoon. Of course, I was jealous about the immediate referral (I had to wait FOUR DAYS in a pain-induced and drug-induced haze since I couldn't take ibuprofen since I was pregnant!), but sad that she had her front tooth to deal with. And, I could feel her pain (both literally and figuratively) over the cost, the TIME, and the cosmetic aspect. Poor lady!
I almost laughed when I heard her cry in anguish to her mom, "I hate the dentist!!!"
My sentiments, exactly.

The Dentist

I wanted to load a little javascript that would have the sound "Duh-duh-duuuuuhhhhh" followed by a scream when this post loaded.

I absolutely, completely, and passionately HATE going to the dentist. It isn't just that they're going to tell me I have crappy teeth, it isn't that they are going to charge me exhorbitant amounts of money to "fix" my "problem(s)", or that they will undoubtedly hurt me in the process, but there is a visceral and emotional component that I cannot describe.

I have tried, especially during this pregnancy, to be extra careful with my teeth. I never flossed before, but now do so nightly. Some nights I'll even rinse with mouthwash in addition to brushing and flossing.

Of course, it didn't help. Yes, pregnancy is super tough on teeth. It isn't just anecdotal (although I can name a few friends who have had problems during pregnancy, and I have mothers of friends and friends of friends who have also had problems). There is actual data from scientific studies (FINALLY!) supporting the fact that pregnancy rots your teeth. Ok, maybe not literally, but it feels like it.

Speaking of FEEL- that's all I've done with my mouth this week. Nope, not chew, not taste, not eat, but feel massive amounts of intense pain that have radiated into my head and hard palate. Pain so intense an unending I haven't eaten, and I've slept no longer that the 3-4 hours between doses of Vicodin. Yep, I'm on the hard drugs because I can't take the over-the-counter ibuprofen that is normally indicated with a toothache since I'm pregnant. Of course, just for spite and because of my passionate loathing of dentists, I didn't hurt this intensly until after I saw the dentist for some very uncomfortable pain on Monday afternoon. It was about 3am on Tuesday that I realized I was in super trouble- after I saw the dentist and she "tapped" on my tooth disrupting any and all chaos that was partially contained. It got so bad I had to call my OB and BEG for something to relieve pain.

As I waited for a root canal. Yup, that's what my dentist prescribed: a referral to an endodontist, who couldn't see me for another couple of days, to have a root canal on the tooth that was bothering me, to be followed shortly thereafter by a crown. I could see the dollar signs glowing in her pretty brown eyes, and I felt the tears coming to mine.

I knew a crown was inevitable. But, did it have to happen while I was pregnant? Why couldn't I have gone through this in-between pregnancies? Then I could've taken ibuprofen and been MUCH more comfortable (Sorry, even Vicodin doesn't "help" the problem, it truly only masks it for short periods of time).

Well, at the endodontist, I freaked him out by having a crying fit as he injected the last of the lidocaine+epinephrine in my mouth to numb me up. I always get a little antsy (the epinephrine, although miniscule, somehow hits me like a ton of bricks and my heart races and freaks out; I think the combination of lack of sleep, being someplace I don't like, and especially being pregnant did an extra number on me). I was crying so hard I was gasping in sobs. The endodontist thought I was hyperventillating (which I was NOT). I'm sure he thought, "Oh boy! This one is going to be tough!"

The tooth was, but I wasn't. I refused the middle-of-proceedure dose of anethestic. Which turned out to be good since they didn't take their standard x-ray (cuz of the baby) and instead they used my good ol' nerves to tell them when they got the filling in the right place. OUCH. Still, not as bad as other things (like bawling and gasping for breaths!) It took the endodontist a lot longer as I had a crooked stubborn canal that didn't want to be canulated. Still, the final x-ray looked really good, and now I just have to have the crown made and put on.

We won't go into the cost, except to say, I'm grateful we got dental insurance (I knew this day was inevitable, like I said before). And I'm even more grateful that Travis and I have saved and prepared for "rainy days" (to me this was of hurricane proportions on the emotion side) so we don't have to worry about paying for something that is to improve my health and provide relief of severe pain.

Still, I wish I could've bought plane tickets to visit friends in Oregon or Texas, instead of sinking it into the roots of my teeth.

*sigh*

At least the pain is suppose to get better. It will get better right?

I doubt my feelings toward dentists/endodontists will ever improve, though.