Nothing quite like a couple of hours in a dentist chair. I've never afraid of dentists, but it's hardly comfortable, not a vacation. I try very hard to be a cooperative patient, but I have a strong gag reflex, and whatever that bitter crap is that they use in taking a mold for a crown caused me to retch reflexively. Gah and yuck and ptoooey. A small swallow of whiskey, and some maple sugar seems to have erased that. Not going to the Humane Society again, and I mind very much. But I am not bringing my worst stress to them. Going Saturday to learn how to teach shelter dogs manners, that will have to suffice.
But, the worst is over, only the permanent to go in a couple of weeks, after the vacation. He did a perfect block, that lasted long enough. Mostly, I'm not numb now, no extraneous drooling, no real pain. I took a decongestant and naproxen before I went, and they called to have me come in early, so all worked out better than could be expected.
I have only the most vague memories of going to a dentist as a small child, mostly an impression of leather waiting room chairs, and a play area, and then being in the chair and spitting. I wasn't to see another dentist until my father got dental insurance when I was 17. I had a few cavities, and saw a very young dentist who put mountain posters on his ceiling, and his fillings have held up over the years. Had braces when I was 19 when another insurance plan got better. I saw another in northern Michigan, who filled cavities occasioned by my post parental home cola habit.
An army dentist from our unit worked on both of us, at a discount and by payments, when D needed wisdom teeth out, and I had an abscessed tooth. We were both very grateful for the care. Another job, but with insurance, meant more attention, preventative cleanings and all.
D is not so genial when it comes to dentists, has a much harder time of staying still and dealing with the tastes and stresses. Had more experience of them, being more firmly middle class and insured. Even more sensitive to pain since the multiple surgeries on his elbow, then hand.
Mostly, I am just grateful to be able to afford such discomfort for the sake of "teeth in good repair" as physical assessments phrase it. My nightmare is to have my teeth crumbling in my mouth. Now that one has, I'm not handling it as well as I would like. I'm feeling worried and tired.
Labels: Self portrait