The dentist is rarely a person’s favorite place to go so it’s not a shock that it lands squarely in my bottom 5, in between being in the bathroom when someone else is pooping and spending an eternity at the DMV. My really fun trick-tooth, which I take off for party games and to scare small children, is finally gone and in its place is a beautiful and nearly indestructible crown, slightly off-white to match the others in my mouth and is one of the most expensive cubic bits of calcium composite ever known to man. I could have bought a small, used economical car or fed a family of 6 in a 3rd world country for a year but instead, I can chew.
This trip to the dentist was the strangest since I was in 2nd grade and experienced grape-flavored laughing gas for the first time. That visit, wearing my green corduroyed pants and plaid shirt with pointed, pocket flaps tipped in metal, I was totally unprepared for the disorientation of having pain but not caring in the least and thinking that the old dentist’s breath was extraordinarily pungent but thinking the whole thing was funnier than Scooby Doo. When I got home I sniffed everything in the house wondering what hidden products might have a similar effect. Turns out – nothing works like laughing gas except for laughing gas but taking a hard sniff of Ajax powdered cleanser will give your sinuses a burn that will last until well after your next birthday and most likely make you dumber.
I’m aware of my teeth sensitivity. It’s been well documented. Everything hurts my teeth including, oh, air and room temperature water. So, little nubs of teeth that have been worn down to accept crowns and have exposed nerves are prone to make me wriggle in my chair unless I’ve been properly medicated or bashed over the head with a mallet. The dentist emptied a full vial of numbing agent into my jaw under my tooth nub. He poked the needle here and there, pushing fluid in and making involuntary tears come to my eyes until it was completely empty. Then, he left. 15 minutes later, he came back and asked me how I was doing. I told him it hadn’t taken effect yet. He nodded and left for another 15 minutes. This time when he came back and I told him nothing was numb, he looked at me as if I was a teen caught stealing a beer and then lying about it. He poked my cheek with his finger and said, ‘Here? Here?’ and I told him the truth – nothing was numb. So he got a second vial, popped it into the needle press and said, ‘Well, maybe you just need a little more to help it kick in.’ He did that two more times until an hour and a half had passed and that vial was empty and my tongue was numb, my neck felt numb but my teeth and lip and cheek? Nope. Nice and awake. And then he got impatient and decided to just go ahead and place the crown anyway. He took that crown off and on about 25 times to make sure it fit correctly. I tried to keep my mouth open but sometimes, dude, that sucker HURT and I would kind of close my mouth or jerk away. I knew he was getting irritated but there was nothing I could do. When he was finally done, my jaw ached a deep, dark ache that only comes after childbirth. Ok, maybe not that bad but pretty, super bad! In fact, it still aches. And I’m ornery. And my tongue is still numb.
Unless you have laughing gas, you’d best keep your distance until tomorrow.
Oh you poor thing! I totally empathize – similar tooth sensitivity runs in my family. I have been through SO MANY dentists and yet I can’t seem to find one who doesn’t become a pompus ass when I tell him I CAN STILL FEEL THAT.
I’m thinking about giving sedation dentistry a try. I have at least four holes in my mouth I’ve been putting off filling.
Hope you feel better soon!
Good god, every single time I’ve had a cavity filled I go through exactly what you’ve described: my dentist gives me a shot, we wait around and then he starts drilling. I jerk my head because IT HURTS LIKE THE DICKENS and he says, “Really?” As if I’m lying. So he gives me another shot and STARTS DRILLING AGAIN and IT HURTS LIKE THE DICKENS AGAIN and he says, “Really?” again. And another shot. And so on.
For some reason, it takes an unbelievable amount of medication to numb my mouth. Or maybe I’m just a super wuss. Yeah, probably the latter.
i’m 23. i’ve had some kind of orthodontia in my mouth SINCE I WAS EIGHT.
it’s horrible. when i was 16 they proposed surgery and said if i didn’t have it my teeth would break and i would have to wear dentures, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? and i told them, seriously, yes, that would be fine. because really, i fucking hate teeth, and jaws, because they’ve never done me any good and i’ve never been mean to them. i don’t drink tea or coffee, i brush twice a day, and i’ve only had one cavity. WHAT THANKS DO I GET?!
two broken jaws and my mouth wired shut for 8 weeks and a hospital stay, that’s what i got!
and i can remember sitting in that mean, awful, hateful orthodontist’s chair, my knuckles already white before they even touched me. i remember sitting there with my mouth stretched open and tools left in while he took a call to discuss his golf game. i remember getting my braces on and the brackets wouldn’t fit over my teeth and when the assistant asked if he would like to try a different size he said, plainly, “no, i’ll just force this one on.” and i cried, and cried, and couldn’t move, and i’ve never felt such pain in my entire life.
and i haven’t been back to a dentist in a few years now, and i still have one piece of orthodontia in my mouth but it can stay there until i’m dead for all i care, because i’m not going back. ever. again.
and i hate laughing gas, because there’s nothing worse than being scared and yet involuntarily laughing about it, and then the hygenists all make fun of you. the end.
my god that sounds horrible. i wonder if you would have suggested he check the expiry date on the numbing stuff, if that would’ve made him mad?
i have very sensitive teeth also, from grinding and clenching my way through life. and, it takes a lot to numb me and last entirely too long.