In Dr. Scrivello's Chair

Today was the first day where'd they'd actually do something to my teeth other than examine them, poke at them, clean them, or ask questions about them ("...and what do you call these, up front?" "Oh, the left one's Timmy, and the right's Tommy." "How about your canines?" "My left one is Vlad, and the right is Lestat.") . My previous appointments had been either forms of intake, or scheduled cleaning. Today we were actually going to tackle my teeth.

First up was putting in a new filling- I need to have some fillings replaced, plus possibly some other work. I'm not a big fan of these types of appointments, but the alternative is losing my teeth. Not a choice, really.

First came the explanation of what was going to happen, then prepping for the filling itself. The final step here, of course, was giving me a few ccs of anesthetic. Lovely to see that nice big needle... hey, waitaminit. His hand is sort of shaking-- he keeps looking inside... Omigawd!

If you can avoid it, and you've got dental insurance, go to an established dentist. With an intern/student, you're going to wind up with someone who's inexperienced, and sometimes, unsure. I ended up having the shot hit what felt like my jawbone, with an enormous amount of pain. Some seconds later, I could feel my lips starting to slowly go numb. Notice I said my lips, not my mouth, my teeth, my tonsils, my nasal passages, my tongue... it was my lips.

"Are you numb yet?"

"No, not really. Just my lips."

Oh boy, here comes another needle. Fun, fun, fun. A little less pain this time, but still enough to make my dental student look like a sadist. This time, half of my tongue goes numb, and a little bit around my teeth.

"I'm gonna probe your teeth. Let me know if you feel anything. You shouldn't feel anything."

I nod my head, and silently sign "yes" to the interpreter.

"Do you feel that?"

Yep.

"That?"

You bet.

"Hmmm.. ok. That?"

No kidding, I felt that!

Out comes the needle again. He looks really flustered. He knows and I know and he knows I know that he knows he should have gotten it right by the second shot, maximum. He looks inside my open jaw, turns back, then looks again. He asks his supervising teacher for advice. After, he returns, and with a really shaky hand (why are you coming at me shaking like that??? Go somewhere else with that needle!), grasps the needle yet again, and stabs at my gums.

Not as much pain. Hmm, *something* must be numb, but it certainly isn't my teeth. We go through the "tag the poor patient's teeth with the probe" bit again, and I can still feel the probe, most of the time.

Oh, boy. This ranks right up there on the all-time list of things I'd rather not be doing. My interpreter looks really uncomfortable. Gee, I wonder why?

"I think we're almost there. I just want to make sure when I start working on you that you feel absolutely nothing."

Uh-huh, okay. One more needle to the gum/jaw/tissue. I can barely feel this one, and finally, a few minutes later, one entire half of my tongue and my gums and the area around half of my jaw is numb. Can't feel the probe this time...

The next torture device isn't a needle, it's a clamp that will be jammed onto the offending tooth, with a plastic cover surrounding the top, attached to a frame that is metal and juts perilously just centimeters from my eye. Lord, I'm deaf already-- please don't blind me while you're at it.

The clamp is pushed on, and despite what must be enough anesthetic to KO a horse, I can feel it, and it's *N O T* comfortable. Then the frame is adjusted, and the plastic stretched across it. Unfortunately, my practictioner's fingers are not nicknamed "Twinkletoes" and as he pulls the plastic, he grips my goatee along with it.

*YOWL*

He's startled-- asks if I felt anything, and moves as if to grasp the needle yet again.

"No, no," I hastily sign. "You pinched my facial hair and skin."

He apologizes, and gets back to work. Unfortunately, this isn't the only time my face gets pummeled, and we go through the agony together of him pinching, tugging, and pulling what he shouldn't be. I begin to wonder if this is how men got shaves once upon a time, before the invention of razor blades. Just casually pluck out the hairs (ouch) one by one (ouch again).

Altogether, it takes three hours to administer way too many shots, torture my face, extricate the old filling pieces, pour in the new filling, tear the clamp (and probably half the tooth) out, and agree that I'll come in about three weeks from now for another filling.

Although he's just a young man, a dental student at least ten years younger than me, I felt for a couple hours or so as if I were in "Little Shop of Horrors", sitting in Dr. Orin Scrivello's dental chair. Unfortunately for my sanity, I'm not all that into pain, or sadism. I wonder if the interpreter will come back, or if I'll have a new one. He looked really scared....