modern dentistry

I went to the dentist last night for a cleaning and a checkup.

When I was a kid, I always had cavities. I also had a dentist who didn't believe in novacaine for kids, so going to the dentist was truly a nightmare for me. Even the three sticks of crappy sugar-free gum he handed me as I leapt from the chair after his tortures wasn't enough to make me forget the horrors of the drill.

When I was pregnant with my second child, I broke a filling and went to the dentist for the first time in the seven years I'd been married. (Once officially a grownup, I determined I would never see Dr. Crazydrill again, so I went to Jack's dentist who did believe in novacaine, at least for adults.)

About a year ago, that dentist announced he was retiring and introduced us to his hand-picked replacement, who though very young, seemed like a nice kid who was excited to be our new dentist. Everything went well at that first visit. Then six months ago, Dr. Kid found a small cavity on the outside of one of my molars near the gumline. He assured me it was no big deal and we scheduled a time for the repair.

I suppose if any one of the three shots of novacaine he injected into the back of my mouth had in fact numbed the spot that he was planning to drill into, the filling wouldn't have been any big deal. Unfortunately (mostly for me, I suppose) the nerve in my mouth that is associated with that lower molar is not in the place identified in the dental textbooks, and even if you inject three times into that spot in my mouth, my molar will still not be numb and I will, in fact, feel when you drill, even if it's only for a few minutes.

The drilling may have lasted only a few minutes, but the horror of it has stayed with me for six months. Well, that horror and the feeling that I might at anytime during the procedure have swallowed my own tongue because it was definitely numb. For hours and hours after, perhaps three times longer than usual.

I suspect you can imagine my hesitation to return to Dr. Kid's office after the last visit. But somehow, Jack and I were talked into scheduling our next cleaning when we left after the last cleaning, and that scheduled appointment was last night.

I suspect you can also imagine my horror last night when Dr. Kid, after poking and jabbing around in my mouth, announced that both my furthest back top and bottom molars had huge, old fillings that were breaking apart, loosening up, and could actually put me at risk of breaking those teeth which would necessitate much drilling and paying for two crowns--unless I had the fillings replaced in the near future.

I could never have imagined that the near future would be this morning at 8:30. They had a cancellation. Imagine that.

So this morning, I bustled around the gardens, tidying, stalling, putting off my visit back to the chair. I even did my weightlifting exercises before I left.

Eventually, I had to face the chair and the needle. When I arrived, I told the Kid that if he didn't get me numb this time, he would simply have to put me under. He laughed. I said I was serious. He said not to worry, he had a new way to ensure I would be numb.

That is when the assistant asked if I wanted the gas. [Can I just interject here and say, why, why, why would anybody ever not want the gas? Is there any better, legal way to become as completely relaxed as possible while in a dental chair and awake? Is there a legal way to add some of that stuff to my breakfast everyday? I love the gas. My insurance doesn't pay for it, but it's only $20 and seriously, I would pay a lot more than that for the feeling of relaxation it gives. I think I actually asked the Kid if everything that people say in the chair is as funny to him as it is to the person in the chair on the gas and he didn't hesitate for a second before agreeing that things in the dental office are often funny. And I wondered if maybe he somehow gets the gas that leaks around the little nose mask and maybe that's why dentists enjoy their work so much? But thanks to the wondrous gas, my mind moved onto a different topic before I had the chance to ask him about that.]

So, I got the gas. Then the assistant applied the topical stuff. And Dr. Kid asked for the blahblahblah, something that I thought was a funny name for something that was going into my mouth, so I repeated it and said I loved the blahblahblah and they both laughed and gave me the blahblahblah, which, it turns out, is the magical new method of numbing the lower back molar, which, I am delighted to report, is indeed completely successful at numbing the lower back molar.

After my hour in the chair, Dr. Kid said my fillings were done and asked me how I was doing. I gave him my best Dale Earnhardt thumbs up and told him he had restored my faith in modern dentistry. And both he and the assistant laughed and then she turned off the gas.