Hola all. Here is the text of an email I sent to a few friends of mine earlier today, after a grueling trip to the dentist (after I got up from a LONG nap):
Well, I won't go into all the gory details, suffice to say it was absolute
fricking TORTURE for four hours. I was in the chair - yes, never got out of
it until they took the iron bands off my arms and legs - from 8 a.m. until
12 noon. At the end of it, my handsome young dentist and the dental tech
said "you're the best patient we've ever had". Yeah, right. Give me a blue
ribbon, why don't ya, or better yet, knock off a thousand or so from the
final cost that will practically bankrupt me, despite whatever the dental
insurance ends up paying. Geez!
I had so much stuff done inside my mouth today, they couldn't even believe,
it, LOL! Handsome young dentist was rightly proud of himself for this
patient not expiring in the chair from old age and/or heart failure. By the
end, I wasn't even sure if my legs would support me, and they offered to let
me lay down for awhile until I was strong enough to leave - I declined, I
just wanted to boogey out of there as fast as my wobbly legs could carry me.
I felt MUCH better one I was out in the frigid 40 mph winds (we're
experiencing abnormally below normal temps here). It didn't bother me, I
couldn't feel my face anyway. I had my winter jacket on, my hat and gloves,
put on my sunglasses to keep out stray bits of blowing leaves and debris and
concentrated on trying not to drool. I walked the mile home in record
time - even stopped at the Walgreens on the way to pick up a totally
unrelated blood pressure med refill.
No way around having all that work done, it was all inter-connected. The
dentist HAD to check out the anchor tooth with the cavity in it - and yes,
they DID do a fricking root canal on that tooth, and then I think, according
to their cryptic conversation going on above my face, they put some kind of
"post" or like inside the damn thing. The work on that tooth, while
grueling because it took so long - there was no pain because I was SO shot
up with novacaine - I actually stopped the proceedings twice and asked for
more! - was bearable. It was the OTHER fricking anchor tooth, a molar
WAAAAYYYYY in the back of my far too small mouth (it's a congenital
"defect", so I was once told by one of my dentists) that was the absolute
pits to have them working on.
Well, I kept my eyes FIRMLY shut throughout the ordeal, except for "rest"
periods, and thankfully they were very cognizant of my need to take a break
every half hour or so. Five minutes here and there where I could just
BREATHE again and try to swallow all the crap collected at the back of my
throat and slow my heart beat down to something approaching normal was a
relief. They gave me "safety goggles" to wear. Oh my goddess! Never had
THAT happen before. Not exactly reassuring...
Saws, that damn "buzzzzzzzz" sound of the drills and I don't know what all
they put inside my mouth as I sure the hell was NOT looking; in the
beginning I was constantly gagging from water running down the back of my
throat and no way to swallow so I'd be waving my hands around like
'HELLLOOOOOO, I'M IN DISTRESS HERE...' Toward the end, I just wanted to be
drowned and be put out of my misery.
I have to give them credit - they were very sensitive to my "dental
distress" and did pick up very quickly on my distress (including gagging
noises and heaving chest). They'd wanted me to use some kind of rubber
insert to help me keep my mouth open. First handsome young dentist tried to
put in an adult size thingy, but it sure did not fit; then he tried their
smallest one (the kind they use on children), and that evoked a constant
gagging response and was just TOO BIG and TOO uncomfortable and I said no no
no (which came out sound something like FOOO UOOO). Well, they got the
message (and it wasn't exactly no no no I was saying, lol). Trooper that I
am (champion patient, they'd better remember me at Christmas time) I gamely
was able to keep my mouth open through the entire 4 hours without any
additional instruments of torture inserted into that particular aperture to
"prop it open" (I heard handsome young dentist mention cotton balls and
those wooden sticks that doctors use to gag you), and with the breaks and
the times handsome dentist said "you can close now" my jaw managed to stay
connected, although now I believe I can open up wide to chew bricks.
So, they (1) took bridge off - that entailed major sawing - I think they
used a metal hacksaw (felt like it) but since I had my eyes shut and tried
to concentrate on the star and other various patterns playing against my
eyelids and THEN tried to think about how I would decorate my very first
Christmas Tree since 1994, I can't tell you for certain; (2) examined the
bad anchor tooth, did more drilling and sawing; (3) did a root canal on the
poor bad anchor tooth - and I learned all about the various sizes of the
metal wires they dig down into the root to clean out all the living tissue
because there was no way to block out the conversation/instructions going on
between tech and handsome young dentist just above my nose; (4) put foul
tasting crap in mouth from time to time - I think that was just to keep my
heart going at maximum rate - and failed to properly suction off the crap
running down the back of my throat; (5) THEN they brought out the really
heavy duty saw and took what seemed like at least 30 minutes to break out
the rest of the old bridge (30 years old and still going strong).
Handsome young dentist was at this point talking about going to Madison to
go to the Badgers homecoming game tomorrow and I wanted to choke him right
then and there...I spent some time envisioning various ways of torturting
him...tugging and tugging and tugging away with some instrument of torture
or other to try and get the damn remainder of the bridge to pop out. Mind
you - this was after all that earlier sawing and buzzing with various
instruments that were always knocking up against my good teeth and the
un-euthanized portion of my mouth/tongue. I was constantly terrified that
they were going to go OOPS - and knock out something else. And just how
they were able to do a root canal on the bad anchor tooth without FIRST
removing the bridge, I'll never know (again, I don't want to ask, yech) ,
but they did remove SOMETHING that entailed at least an hour of torture,
else they wouldn't have been able to get at the bad anchor tooth. Or maybe
it was all a big fraud, like some people belief that America never landed
men on the moon??? Anyway, all of a sudden, after tearing my lower lip open
(didn't feel it because of all the novocaine, and he apologized for it
afterwards and actually showed me my "wound" in a pretty little hand mirror
and told me it should scab over and fall off in just a couple of days) and
having distinct bruises of handsome young dentist's five fingers under my
lower left jaw line, whatever was left of the bridge gave way with a mighty
yank and ended up in my mouth - POP. I bolted up out of the chair (I'd been
tipped backwards at a 45 degree angle for most of this torture) and spit the
thing out. There was what remained of my poor bridge - laying on my right
knee. What the HELL would they have done if the thing had gone right down
my throat??? I can see the headlines now: "55 Year Old Woman Killed by
Bridge"...
The dentist and the tech congratulated each other while I'm staring in
amazment at my poor deceased bridge and wondering if I can keep the gold on
top - but they whisked it away somehow when I must have blinked and my mouth
was so fricking numb at this point and so stretched out of shape I couldn't
have spoken even if I'd tried. Will they melt down the gold and apply it
toward the bill? Alas, poor bridge, I knew thee well - 30 years old and it
SURE as hell did NOT want to come out. I must write Dr. Englander, the
dentist who put in the bridge, and congratulate him on his excellent work.
Let's see, where are we? Oh yeah, number (6). It seems that most of the
prep work for putting in a bridge entails grinding away at a poor still
alive tooth until there is next to nothing left except a "stump", sometimes
reinforced with a "tower" - or was that a "post" - at least, that's what I
gathered from the terse dental lingo. Thank goodness neither the dentist or
the tech had bad breath as - I think I mentioned this before - all of these
conversations (except for the whispered ones going on behind the back of my
head or even worse, just outside the door) were going on directly above my
nose.
Number (7), taking yet another impression with the gag-me plastic crap. I'd
heard the word here and there "impression," but you see, I thought I must be
imagining things at this point - Girl, you are delirious (driven mad by the
torture...) - because they had taken a full GAG-ME impression just a few
weeks before (upper and lower - both separate tortures) so I didn't
understand why they needed another one. I got really freaked, because they
called in a third person - I went whoa - as best I could and said - what ARE
you doing? Heart rate must have been about 1780 at that point, surprised I
didn't expire right then and there. Oh, we just want to take an impression,
they said, seeming shocked at my reaction. Another one? And why does it
take THREE PEOPLE? But of course I didn't have a chance to try and drool
these words out of my mostly frozen mouth/face before they were upon me
again, but handsome young dentist did say "we're almost done now, we're
almost done". LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE. I actually expected the third
person to sit on my chest and hold me down, but thankfully, she did not.
Instead, she was used exclusively to squeeze the foul tasting plastic crap
into a too big metal mold that they forced inside my mouth and told me to
bite down - only 3 minutes! The third person had the GAUL to complain
within my hearing about how her wrist and arm were hurting from squeezing
the crap out of the tube into the mold. Hey lady, want to trade places???
(8) Putting in the "temporary bridge". I don't even want to go there.
Well, I will say this. The mold that came out of the newest impression
looked way too frigging big to fit inside my mouth, handsome young dentist
showed it to me with pride, before he, as he said "had to grind it down a
bit" - and so it proved to be, even after he disappeared for one of my five
minute breaks where I was actually seated upright and gagging on all the
cotton stuffed in my mouth...
(9) Fitting the proper "bite" on the temporary bridge. I must have heard
"now bite bite bite bite and chew chew chew chew" 100 times. More intense
grinding down of the now fake teeth inside my mouth with various instruments
of torture and water running down the back of my throat, and who knows what
all else? No wonder my MD told me I MUST take 4 gigantic horse-sized bills
of ampicillin before each dental visit. I'm still spitting out pieces of
"ick." Lots of torture getting this part done.
(10) Popping out the temporary bridge after it had been sastifactorily
"fitted for bite" to "polish it up and then we'll cement it in and then
you'll be finished." Oh, yippee - just another 40 minutes. Lots more
torture getting this part done. A second set of bruises along my left
lower jaw line.
Handsome young dentist did apologize very nicely. I wanted to kick him in
his nuts.
I have an appointment to go back in 2 weeks when they expect to put in the
"permanent" bridge, the day before my investment club's day visit to Chicago
for shopping. Hmmm, I don't think so. But I was too tired to argue and I
just wanted to get out of there. Oh yeah, forgot the most comical parts,
(11) "matching" a tint for the new bridge to my existing teeth. What the
hell is "cervical" staining???? I believe I'm an "A3 - with some cervical
staining". Okay, I always thought the cervix, well - never mind. Last but
not least (12) giving me 400 mg of ibuprofren with a teeeeny little paper
cup of water - half filled, that I was to use to gag down the pills in front
of them. What is this for, I ask. Is there going to be pain once the
novocaine wears off (of course, it didn't sound anything like that, but they
got the general gist). "Oh, it's to take down the swelling on your cut lip
and we were grinding around your gums quite a bit so they may be a bit
tender. We recommend that you swish around some warm salt water later on,
that will heal them right up!"
So, I get home and take a 3 plus hour "nap". Totally zonked out. I came
away from dentist with a severely crinked neck too, from all the tension. I
would not at all be surprised if I left fingerprint impressions behind on
the far too short arms of that dental chair. I'll bet anything they change
them after every patient!
Now I'm just getting WAY drunk. I'm hungry, but I'm afraid to eat anything.
I'm not sure what, exactly, is going on in my mouth at the moment. I do not
want to think too much about the various throbbings and thumps and oomphs
and what nots I'm feeling - scared to death EVERYTHING will just crumple
up and fall out like a bad cartoon.
I've drunk several glasses of cheapo vino since that visit this morning and feeling rather anesthesized now. The novocaine (the extra shots I requested) wore off about 4:30 p.m. Very hungry, but still terrified to eat anything I have to "chew". LOL!