Andrew and Dental Vocabulary
Egad.
Andrew had his second dental appointment today, following the first one when he chipped his tooth last spring. It was all going very well - Andrew once again loved the waiting room, with the Lego table and the Playstations and even better, this time there was a toy Hummer. He didn't mind one bit when we went into the back to the room with all the chairs, although he wasn't entirely sure why he was on Mommy's lap.
And then suddenly, without warning, he was laid backwards and was looking up into the face of Dr. K the dentist and she was sticking her FINGERS in his MOUTH.
Well.
Andrew knows what to do when someone tries to stick something in his mouth. You know, things that are so disgusting they clearly should NEVER go in one's mouth, like toothbrushes and spoons with smashed peas. He goes into Emergency Defense Mode One, which is to clamp his teeth shut tight. So he did. (He also commenced with the screaming.)
Dr. K: So, brushing.
Me: I'm trying, but he's been putting up a fight lately. I think his second molars are coming in. I figure I'm lucky the days he's willing to chew the toothbrush.
Dr. K: (not terribly upset) But no actual brushing?
Me: (very embarrassed) No, not really.
About two seconds later, we noticed the blood. And blood. And blood.
Dr. K: Did I prick him?
Me: I don't think so.
It was nearly impossible to get him to open his mouth wider, but when he paused for breath, he did, and we managed to get a look. Sure enough, there are two second molars moving in. And one of them was surrounded by blood.
Dr. K: Ah. I think that was an eruption cyst.
Me: A what?
So, new medical term for those of you playing at home: eruption cysts are most often found in teething children. They form over the tooth, basically looking like the cold sore from Hell, and don't usually cause much trouble. They either subside as the tooth comes in, or they burst as the tooth pops through.
We figure that Andrew's did neither; when he clamped his mouth shut in defense of his teeth, he accidentally popped the extremely full cyst, causing the blood in the cyst to flow out. No big whoop, although quite a lot of blood, and it'll heal on its own, although he can't suck on anything for the next 24 hours. (At least he's starting drinking from a cup.)
It took some time for us to control the bleeding. Andrew was so desperately unhappy with all of us that we had to call in reinforcements to hold him down. (Dr. K says she's going to note that on her chart for the next visit.) When the bleeding finally slowed down, we let Andrew slide to the floor, where he went crying in the direction of the waiting room and the toy Hummer. Both Dr. K and I slumped in relief.
Dr. K: You know, I was going to mention trying to floss his front teeth...
Me: Oh, you're funny.
Dr. K: Yeah, we'll let that slide for now.
Good thing the next patients were around nine or ten years old. If there'd been a three-year-old in the waiting room, that visit would have been a disaster.
By the time I'd paid up, and collected various goodies and prizes (Andrew's parting gifts included two balloons, two stickers, and a rubber snake), Andrew had calmed down considerably. He was also clutching the toy Hummer, facing the door: clearly, in his world view, you go to the dentist, and you get a Hummer.
Nurse: He really likes that Hummer.
Me: Yeah. This is not going to go well.
It didn't. The screaming lasted the entire way home, and did not stop until I was able to apply some Toy Story therapy. (Even mac & cheese for lunch didn't quell the sobs.)
But in the continuing awesomeness of Dr. K - she called about 45 minutes ago to make sure Andrew was still doing okay. Which, of course, he is - he hasn't eaten much, and we both think that's probably due to some soreness, but he's willing to drink and eat some of his favorite softer foods, and I figure I'll give him some ibuprofen before bed.
I totally love Andrew's dentist. I kind of which she was mine!
Anyway, just for kicks, and because it amuses the heck out of me, a contest.
The How Strong Is My Toddler Contest
How many people total did it take to hold Andrew down during his dental appointment today?
(It was at least two: one being Mommy and one being the dentist.)
The first person to respond with the correct number wins a homemade cross-stitch bookmark with their choice of design. Good luck!
We have a winner! time_converges correctly guessed that there were four of us holding Andrew down at one point during his appointment, trying desperately to keep him still. We did not entirely succeed.
Andrew had his second dental appointment today, following the first one when he chipped his tooth last spring. It was all going very well - Andrew once again loved the waiting room, with the Lego table and the Playstations and even better, this time there was a toy Hummer. He didn't mind one bit when we went into the back to the room with all the chairs, although he wasn't entirely sure why he was on Mommy's lap.
And then suddenly, without warning, he was laid backwards and was looking up into the face of Dr. K the dentist and she was sticking her FINGERS in his MOUTH.
Well.
Andrew knows what to do when someone tries to stick something in his mouth. You know, things that are so disgusting they clearly should NEVER go in one's mouth, like toothbrushes and spoons with smashed peas. He goes into Emergency Defense Mode One, which is to clamp his teeth shut tight. So he did. (He also commenced with the screaming.)
Dr. K: So, brushing.
Me: I'm trying, but he's been putting up a fight lately. I think his second molars are coming in. I figure I'm lucky the days he's willing to chew the toothbrush.
Dr. K: (not terribly upset) But no actual brushing?
Me: (very embarrassed) No, not really.
About two seconds later, we noticed the blood. And blood. And blood.
Dr. K: Did I prick him?
Me: I don't think so.
It was nearly impossible to get him to open his mouth wider, but when he paused for breath, he did, and we managed to get a look. Sure enough, there are two second molars moving in. And one of them was surrounded by blood.
Dr. K: Ah. I think that was an eruption cyst.
Me: A what?
So, new medical term for those of you playing at home: eruption cysts are most often found in teething children. They form over the tooth, basically looking like the cold sore from Hell, and don't usually cause much trouble. They either subside as the tooth comes in, or they burst as the tooth pops through.
We figure that Andrew's did neither; when he clamped his mouth shut in defense of his teeth, he accidentally popped the extremely full cyst, causing the blood in the cyst to flow out. No big whoop, although quite a lot of blood, and it'll heal on its own, although he can't suck on anything for the next 24 hours. (At least he's starting drinking from a cup.)
It took some time for us to control the bleeding. Andrew was so desperately unhappy with all of us that we had to call in reinforcements to hold him down. (Dr. K says she's going to note that on her chart for the next visit.) When the bleeding finally slowed down, we let Andrew slide to the floor, where he went crying in the direction of the waiting room and the toy Hummer. Both Dr. K and I slumped in relief.
Dr. K: You know, I was going to mention trying to floss his front teeth...
Me: Oh, you're funny.
Dr. K: Yeah, we'll let that slide for now.
Good thing the next patients were around nine or ten years old. If there'd been a three-year-old in the waiting room, that visit would have been a disaster.
By the time I'd paid up, and collected various goodies and prizes (Andrew's parting gifts included two balloons, two stickers, and a rubber snake), Andrew had calmed down considerably. He was also clutching the toy Hummer, facing the door: clearly, in his world view, you go to the dentist, and you get a Hummer.
Nurse: He really likes that Hummer.
Me: Yeah. This is not going to go well.
It didn't. The screaming lasted the entire way home, and did not stop until I was able to apply some Toy Story therapy. (Even mac & cheese for lunch didn't quell the sobs.)
But in the continuing awesomeness of Dr. K - she called about 45 minutes ago to make sure Andrew was still doing okay. Which, of course, he is - he hasn't eaten much, and we both think that's probably due to some soreness, but he's willing to drink and eat some of his favorite softer foods, and I figure I'll give him some ibuprofen before bed.
I totally love Andrew's dentist. I kind of which she was mine!
Anyway, just for kicks, and because it amuses the heck out of me, a contest.
The How Strong Is My Toddler Contest
How many people total did it take to hold Andrew down during his dental appointment today?
(It was at least two: one being Mommy and one being the dentist.)
The first person to respond with the correct number wins a homemade cross-stitch bookmark with their choice of design. Good luck!
We have a winner! time_converges correctly guessed that there were four of us holding Andrew down at one point during his appointment, trying desperately to keep him still. We did not entirely succeed.