Traumatic Dentist Appointment and a Loving Husband

Filed Under: Life, Mental Health

When I was in college, my wisdom teeth started bothering me. Despite how loud I can be, I actually have a small mouth and my teeth are more crowded than a car full of clowns right before the big reveal.

I knew the teeth would have to come out; all of my friends had theirs cut out already. I think wisdom teeth extraction has become this generation’s tonsillectomy. But, without dental insurance, I was going to have to pay out-of-pocket and since my pockets were already turned inside out, the teeth stayed in. My mom eventually called around and found a dentist up in Missouri who would get the suckers out for the lowest cost. 

Tucker and his mom drove me up to the dentist’s office. I was nervous since I had wanted to be totally knocked out so everything could be done at once but apparently that costs a whole heck of a lot and thus wasn’t gonna happen. Up until that point, I had only been seen by a pediatric dentist who always used nitrous and I liked going to the dentist. 

So we get there and I’m sure I filled out paperwork or something and a tech took me back. During our polite conversation chat I asked about anesthesia other than just getting a shot and was told I would have to come back to watch a video or something if I wanted to go that route.  Since the office was over an hour away and I had class and work to worry about, there went that idea.

Alrighty then.

The tech took purty pictures of my teeth with one of those cool standup x-ray machine jobbers and I met the dentist. Who looked like he was about fall over dead from old age. And according to him, was retiring at the end of the week. Closing up shop. Getting the hell outta Dodge.


The tech leaned me back in the chair, the dentist popped on the Super Special Dentist Light and reached for a metal syringe.

It’s at that point I started to wonder if nitrous was included in the grouping of “extras” with the video and all that. Surely not. Nitrous wasn’t that big of a deal to need its own VIDEO the day before the actual appointment, right? 


Sherlock wrong

I had just started planning out my escape route when the dentist must have caught on to my brilliant plan since more techs materialized and then held me down. The dentist did his shots in my jaw thing, yanked out two wisdom teeth, screwed up an adjacent tooth I later had to have root canalled and capped and sent me on my merry way.

How I Met Your Mother Jerk

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago when Tucker forced me to go to a new dentist. A new dentist who discovered the broken molar I had been ignoring for three years. What? It didn’t hurt! You see where I’m going with this, right? Yup. #15 had to leave the party. 

Fast forward some more to Monday. I had to get a couple of fillings repaired. New Dentist’s people gave me nitrous, I freaked out very little and life went on.

Yay, life!

Today? Not so much. 

On went the nitrous and I was left for a few so the gas could start going to my head. Dentist came back, did the topical crap that ALWAYS makes your tongue go numb and then eventually shot me up. He fixed a discolored filling and then shot me with SOME MORE stuff in my jaw. 

I had jokingly told the dentist and tech, “This is what some folks might consider a trigger moment.” OK. I wasn’t really joking.

Once he left again to check on some other patients whilst the left side of my head went numb, I texted Tucker. 

Text from me to Tucker while I was waiting to get my tooth pulled.

I had been scared. I did the whole silent cry thing but I couldn’t really move since the nitrous mask basically held my head to the chair so I had to wipe the tears out of my ears. Odd feeling, that. 

I got my shit back together before they came in to yank out the tooth and I felt bad for having texted Tucker. There wasn’t anything he could have done; he had to be home to keep the kids from eating each other. I guess I feel bad for making him feel bad. But I’m glad he felt bad cause that means he cares. Or something. Make sense? 

Scott Pilgram

The whole oral situation?

As long as I don’t get a dry socket (like I did with those damn wisdom teeth holes) I’ll be happy.

So, Tucker?