IV Sedation for Dental Work, Otherwise Known as Bullshit!

"I am not an animal!!!!"

I've had a lifelong fear of the dentist. The picture above is of me after a filling. The dentist gave me what he referred to as, "Enough Novocaine to take down a horse!" but I still felt everything. This may explain my passionate dislike of dentists. I don't dislike dentists as people. Well...maybe I do. What kind of person chooses a career where they're paid to torture people? I realize that last statement coming from me, a physical therapist, is sort of ironic.

My first dental experience ended with a huge bite mark on my Mom's shoulder, (it was the last bit of her I could clutch on to as they ripped me from her arms), and the words, "SHE KICKS", written in big red letters in my chart. My behavior really hasn't changed much since then. I haven't bitten or kicked anyone in a while but I have fainted. Not because of what they were doing to me. I fainted because the woman in the room next to mine moaned and I knew she was having teeth pulled. Why would anyone go through an extraction awake?! When I had my wisdom teeth extracted I opted for what I thought was general anaesthesia. It seemed the safest option for everyone involved. Boy was I wrong. I walked in to the oral surgeon's office that morning with my Mom and the biggest stuffed animal I could find. (Did I mention I was 26 at the time?) They strapped me to a table in the crucifix position. Like Jesus Christ. It sucked. Then they plopped my stuffed animal, a big blue dog, on my chest. How the heck was I supposed to squeeze the dog when my arms were velcroed to a table?! I asked the nurse to get the dog off me. I didn't want to look silly...that's the last thing I remember. 

When I came to I was sitting beside my Mother and I was sobbing. Hysterically. Like unable to get words out hysterical, barely able to breathe, snot flying everywhere and I didn't care, hysterical. Mom was patting me and going back and forth between asking me over and over what was wrong and asking the nurses because I wasn't answering. With much struggling and gasping for air I managed to say, "I...Want...My...Dog!!!!" They told my Mom that crying was a post anaesthesia reaction. She took them at their word and I was in no state to question anything. Until the next day when I took a shower and found I was covered in bruises. I called the oral surgeon's office and asked the secretary if she could tell me what the hell they'd done to me. She put me on hold to check my chart. When she came back she told me I'd broken loose from the straps and started fighting. What?? I used my hulk like strength to break loose from the straps and started a brawl? No wonder I woke up sobbing! I'd just fought an entire room full of people! The woman on the phone explained to me that oral surgeons don't use general anaesthesia, they use twilight sleep. You're not completely under so the dentist can interact with you, have you turn your head and spit, open wider...and try to kick his ass! She didn't tell me what kind of damage I did but I like to think I dealt out a bruise or two of my own.