Thoughts and Shenanigans

D is for Dentaphobia

This morning I had to go to the Dentist and have a molar pulled.  I had an absess next to it and the tooth was so badly infected and damaged it couldn’t be saved.  I have a terrible fear of dental work.  I don’t like being in the chair unable to leave.  I panic so badly that I shake uncontrollably in the chair and sometimes the Dentist will get frustrated because I can’t stop.  The Dentist today was quiet and reserved, not overly friendly but obviously very good at his job and quietly compassionate.  Despite his empathy, it was a total shit show.

I am very difficult to numb.  I’ve been told a number of times how my veins aren’t running the right direction, or they’re in the wrong place, or my nerves don’t respond to medication the way they’re supposed to.  NO SHIT.  When the Dentist numbs me, it usually takes several tries for it to take, and they have to use three to five times more medication than is average.  Today he numbed me and then tried to start and I was not numb.  He had to stop and try again.  Twice.  It was not a fun time.  Third time around actually took.  Then when I was finally numb the damn thing wouldn’t come out and he said he’d have to drill it out.  SUPER GOOD.  Then he discovered, SURPRISE!  Instead of having two roots like a normal human, I have four.  Two extra little bastards holding on so he had to drill those out too.  Finally two full hours after I’d sat in the chair, it was out.

 

And now I need a fucking implant.  I’ll work my way up to it.

I am not required reading! I swear a lot, complain about my three kids, our four cats, my annoying husband, depression, anxiety, chronic health issues. I'm here for the personal mortification stories.