Inner Oral Violence
Well, as I embark down the long winding road of modern dentistry I have learned the processes are generally not painful thanks to our good friends Lidocaine and Novocaine, but tend to be exceptionally time-consuming and somewhat discomforting.
Today, being my fourth appointment in the last three weeks was by far the worst appointment I've faced. I went for what was to be a simple root canal, my second one, followed by some light posting and temporary capping. This ended up being far more complex than I would like to imagine. I arrived, fiancee in tow, ready for an hour and a half of oral surgery, ready to be at my desk to take care of a few issues by 2 PM at work. (My appointment was an early 10:45 AM.) Well, the first root canal went alright, with a minor change after initial setting, but no pain and minimal discomfort. We were done around 12:45 or so. I figured we would have a quick posting, slap something over the top and away I would be, by 1:30, a little late, but not totally dismayed.
Well, posting went alright, because the dentist does it and I will be the first to admit that I picked one great dentist. However, from there, the dentist left the room and left the hygienist or assistant to finish things up. I hadn't dealt with this hygienist before today, but it made my day awful.
First, everything took for forever. I understand that dentistry is microsurgery and they understand I am scared to death of being there. They should also understand that novocaine has a shelf life in your mouth before it wears off. First, there was an impression, which took forever. I have a strange bite and even though the dentist warned her, I believe she was frustrated with my inability to get the tray set immediately, though she was quite able to cut the back of my gums with tray number 5. This didn't sit well with me, but I swallowed my pain and my pride and soldiered on, like a blissful coma patient.
Finally, we were able to get some impressions set, but only at the expense of 45 minutes worth of time and some severe pain in my jaw, making things like chewing or biting down harder. From there, we began putting in the temporary crowns.
My god! Each one, there were two of them, took about 25 or so tries to get just right, which at this point is debatable. As my back went into spasm, I noticed sensation in my mouth towards the end of fitting one. Sensation was about the last thing I wanted to feel in there...OK, next to last thing after a new hole of some sorts, yet sensation I felt. At this point, I reached a crossroad, do I get another set of novocaine injections, which are absolutely terrible to take or do I man up and hope she gets it done fast.
Like a fool or deranged lunatic, I chose option 2. The first five or so tries, the novocaine was wearing off, but by try six all I felt was material being jammed into my now very sensitive gums. As she kept jamming things in there, I tried very hard to suck it up, but I was in obvious pain. After try 15, which was about the three and a half hour mark in the chair, the dentist returned and asked how things are going, to which she told him, we were almost done. Almost, of course means five minutes or three tries, not thirty minutes or ten tries. Which continued endlessly as the pain became more intense with each try from the lessened novocaine and continual jamming and pulling. Lest this be the only wound inflicted, the hygienist realized that after four hours in a chair, in excrutiating pain, that it was the right time to insist that I needed to use an electric toothbrush and was doing everything wrong.
I see, I was unaware there was nothing wrong with what I was doing, given the incredible number of thousands of dollars I wrote a check for on Monday or the fact I spent 4 hours in a chair accompanied by the sounds of bone saws and blow torchs. What I really needed was the hygienist to get on her high horse and lecture me about everything I'm doing wrong. Yes, let's pick on the person deathly afraid to be here, who you have been working on for four hours to moralize to. Needless to say, I started screaming about the pain she was inflicting, since I was a customer in pain and started to scream and cry enough to be discomforting to anyone in the back of a dentist's office. Surprisingly, she was able to finish a lot faster at this point and give up on her need to have her friends gang up on me to prove a point, which is where she wanted to take me next.
Luckily, the dentist came out and was very calming. The remainder of his staff was wonderful as well and was really trying to help. As we talked, the dentist told me that the work I had done today was the amount of work the average person has in three or usually four visits, but we crammed it into one fun-filled, adventure-laden day. I will of course, go back in two weeks to begin my series of 16 to 20 weekly Friday afternoon visits, since a good dentist is hard to find, but I will also ask to avoid having this harpy work on me ever again, since there is no need to punish those who have already asked for salvation at the end of an especially arduous session. There is nothing gentle or reassuring about that at all.
Today, being my fourth appointment in the last three weeks was by far the worst appointment I've faced. I went for what was to be a simple root canal, my second one, followed by some light posting and temporary capping. This ended up being far more complex than I would like to imagine. I arrived, fiancee in tow, ready for an hour and a half of oral surgery, ready to be at my desk to take care of a few issues by 2 PM at work. (My appointment was an early 10:45 AM.) Well, the first root canal went alright, with a minor change after initial setting, but no pain and minimal discomfort. We were done around 12:45 or so. I figured we would have a quick posting, slap something over the top and away I would be, by 1:30, a little late, but not totally dismayed.
Well, posting went alright, because the dentist does it and I will be the first to admit that I picked one great dentist. However, from there, the dentist left the room and left the hygienist or assistant to finish things up. I hadn't dealt with this hygienist before today, but it made my day awful.
First, everything took for forever. I understand that dentistry is microsurgery and they understand I am scared to death of being there. They should also understand that novocaine has a shelf life in your mouth before it wears off. First, there was an impression, which took forever. I have a strange bite and even though the dentist warned her, I believe she was frustrated with my inability to get the tray set immediately, though she was quite able to cut the back of my gums with tray number 5. This didn't sit well with me, but I swallowed my pain and my pride and soldiered on, like a blissful coma patient.
Finally, we were able to get some impressions set, but only at the expense of 45 minutes worth of time and some severe pain in my jaw, making things like chewing or biting down harder. From there, we began putting in the temporary crowns.
My god! Each one, there were two of them, took about 25 or so tries to get just right, which at this point is debatable. As my back went into spasm, I noticed sensation in my mouth towards the end of fitting one. Sensation was about the last thing I wanted to feel in there...OK, next to last thing after a new hole of some sorts, yet sensation I felt. At this point, I reached a crossroad, do I get another set of novocaine injections, which are absolutely terrible to take or do I man up and hope she gets it done fast.
Like a fool or deranged lunatic, I chose option 2. The first five or so tries, the novocaine was wearing off, but by try six all I felt was material being jammed into my now very sensitive gums. As she kept jamming things in there, I tried very hard to suck it up, but I was in obvious pain. After try 15, which was about the three and a half hour mark in the chair, the dentist returned and asked how things are going, to which she told him, we were almost done. Almost, of course means five minutes or three tries, not thirty minutes or ten tries. Which continued endlessly as the pain became more intense with each try from the lessened novocaine and continual jamming and pulling. Lest this be the only wound inflicted, the hygienist realized that after four hours in a chair, in excrutiating pain, that it was the right time to insist that I needed to use an electric toothbrush and was doing everything wrong.
I see, I was unaware there was nothing wrong with what I was doing, given the incredible number of thousands of dollars I wrote a check for on Monday or the fact I spent 4 hours in a chair accompanied by the sounds of bone saws and blow torchs. What I really needed was the hygienist to get on her high horse and lecture me about everything I'm doing wrong. Yes, let's pick on the person deathly afraid to be here, who you have been working on for four hours to moralize to. Needless to say, I started screaming about the pain she was inflicting, since I was a customer in pain and started to scream and cry enough to be discomforting to anyone in the back of a dentist's office. Surprisingly, she was able to finish a lot faster at this point and give up on her need to have her friends gang up on me to prove a point, which is where she wanted to take me next.
Luckily, the dentist came out and was very calming. The remainder of his staff was wonderful as well and was really trying to help. As we talked, the dentist told me that the work I had done today was the amount of work the average person has in three or usually four visits, but we crammed it into one fun-filled, adventure-laden day. I will of course, go back in two weeks to begin my series of 16 to 20 weekly Friday afternoon visits, since a good dentist is hard to find, but I will also ask to avoid having this harpy work on me ever again, since there is no need to punish those who have already asked for salvation at the end of an especially arduous session. There is nothing gentle or reassuring about that at all.