Trials and tribulations (too much complaining)
We seem to be hitting a bad patch dentally. Maya is having trouble with her permanent teeth. Apparently not enough room in her lower jaw for them. So now my little six year old has an appointment with the orthodontist tomorrow.
I myself was due to have some fillings replaced today. It was my first procedure with a new dentist. She's not all that new, though, being as I already had the exam and x-rays done, and my husband has been going to her for years. So it was odd that I felt a strange "Get me out of here!" feeling when she started to give me the anesthetic. The injection itself was one of the most uncomfortable I can recall experiencing. And it was that odd pre-injection anxiety that initially made me discount the sickness I felt almost immediately post-injection. That's crazy, though, as I thought at the time, because I am not afraid of dentists or their injections. There's no way it was just psychological. The fact is, I felt really sick, really quickly, and when the hygienist came back I thought it prudent to let her know. Dizziness, nausea, sweating. Just really bad. Then the dentist came into the room, and the first thing she said was, "Get the oxygen." I didn't know whether to be glad they had oxygen or upset that she thought I needed it. I thought how horrible it would be if the last time I saw my children was as I was rushing out of the house to go to the dentist's office.
The dentist herself was kind enough to explain that most probably the injection, which contained a vasodilator, had probably gotten directly into my bloodstream rather than going into the muscle; the effect is an elevated heart rate and the symptoms I had experienced. I certainly appreciate her acknowledging that she had misdirected the injection. I also liked it that she decided not to continue the procedure. I certainly just wanted to go home at that point, but was conducting a vigorous internal debate with myself about being wimpy and inconveniencing her scheduling, etc., etc.
I'm not going back, even though I feel some need to let her know that I don't hold the drug reaction against her. I do hold the painful injection against her. I can still barely open my jaw, and I still feel somewhat ill, and for a while this afternoon I had a vicious headache on the side of my head.
I'm going to try Maya's dentist next. My teeth still need fixing. We're going to have a long talk about their anesthetic policy before I agree to any procedures, though.
I myself was due to have some fillings replaced today. It was my first procedure with a new dentist. She's not all that new, though, being as I already had the exam and x-rays done, and my husband has been going to her for years. So it was odd that I felt a strange "Get me out of here!" feeling when she started to give me the anesthetic. The injection itself was one of the most uncomfortable I can recall experiencing. And it was that odd pre-injection anxiety that initially made me discount the sickness I felt almost immediately post-injection. That's crazy, though, as I thought at the time, because I am not afraid of dentists or their injections. There's no way it was just psychological. The fact is, I felt really sick, really quickly, and when the hygienist came back I thought it prudent to let her know. Dizziness, nausea, sweating. Just really bad. Then the dentist came into the room, and the first thing she said was, "Get the oxygen." I didn't know whether to be glad they had oxygen or upset that she thought I needed it. I thought how horrible it would be if the last time I saw my children was as I was rushing out of the house to go to the dentist's office.
The dentist herself was kind enough to explain that most probably the injection, which contained a vasodilator, had probably gotten directly into my bloodstream rather than going into the muscle; the effect is an elevated heart rate and the symptoms I had experienced. I certainly appreciate her acknowledging that she had misdirected the injection. I also liked it that she decided not to continue the procedure. I certainly just wanted to go home at that point, but was conducting a vigorous internal debate with myself about being wimpy and inconveniencing her scheduling, etc., etc.
I'm not going back, even though I feel some need to let her know that I don't hold the drug reaction against her. I do hold the painful injection against her. I can still barely open my jaw, and I still feel somewhat ill, and for a while this afternoon I had a vicious headache on the side of my head.
I'm going to try Maya's dentist next. My teeth still need fixing. We're going to have a long talk about their anesthetic policy before I agree to any procedures, though.
posted by Sarah at 7:57 PM
2 Comments:
So sorry to hear about the pain and suffering from the dentist. Hope you have much better luck next time. And hope Maya will get her new teeth soon.
I know you are not superstitious, but I wouldn't go to a dentist on the 13th :-)
Scary! I hate the dentist. Haven't been in years. I found a great dentist for my kids though... I wanted to make sure they had a good experience from the beginning-- so they wouldn't turn in big chickens like me.
Did you know that Dentists have the highest suicide rate? Something to do with the fact that EVERYONE hates to see them!
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