How do you handle the dentist? Dental Assault—the Two Hour Filling

A couple of weeks ago I made a trip to the dentist.  I hate the dentist. I have notoriously bad teeth and always have. When I was a child the dentist always said I had soft teeth with weak enamel. Lately I have been reading accounts of dentist telling other spectrum children that same thing—an interesting coincidence?

Smells Make Me Nauseous

For me, a visit to the dentist is assaultive. The smells permeating the air in the office turn my stomach. I don’t seek the dentist out often; I usually go when I am in pain.  But since I am hypo-sensitive to deep pain, I almost never have a toothache—not anything that would make me seek help. At least not until there is essentially no tooth or root left to save.

I had to make a dental appointment; my crown fell out of my mouth.  It was one of my front teeth and I had a mini-pointed vampire looking tooth underneath the crown. I submit that had it been in a less visible place I would have put it off for a while. 

The office staff was so polite, and the dentist so friendly and pleasant that I decided I would come back for the fillings I desperately need.  That is why I found myself there on this occasion—a filling.

Two hours later—yes—two hours my filling was complete.

Stimming Through the Panic

The dentist was nice enough, but I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. She came in, gave me a shot to numb the area and left the room! That’s when the panic began.

For reasons that I cannot yet explain (though I have a theory) I panic when I take pain medication, and anything that causes a fuzzy or numbing sensation. The needle in my mouth was not painful at all, but the feeling of numbness had my insides shaking. I was trying desperately to practice my deep breathing until the numb feeling wore off, which is always does.

I forgot my earplugs home and had nothing to squish into little shapes to calm myself down.  Since the earplugs are my dual purpose tool, used to drown out background sounds, and to calm my nerves, I have no need to carry around an additional stress ball.  Well—I forgot them home, so I rung my hands, and flapped my foot until I could breathe.

Numbing Agent Wears off too Quickly

By the time the dentist and her technician returned and began to try to fill the cavity, the pain medication had mostly worn off.  I allowed her to drill anyway because the pain itself was still mostly tolerable.  I did not want another shot of numbness, but it was wearing off too quickly.

Another shot, and out of the room they went—again.  The cycle started over I pushed past my panic, the meds started to wear off, and they came back in to finish filling my tooth.  This time I had pain immediately.  The drill shot cold water into my mouth while she was drilling.  I can’t even brush my teeth with cold water.  That drill was excruciating.  When it was changed to a drill without the shooting water, I was able to tolerate it.  How odd? But that too didn’t last very long…

A total of four times it took repeating this same process with me thinking that the dentist and her staff were complete idiots.  After all don’t they know that the numbing agent doesn’t last that long.  Give me the shot, and hurry—drill!

Through the Pain...

During the final time, once again the pain medication wore off. I wanted to be out of there, no more shots I needed this to be over with.  I slipped an elastic pony tail holder out of my hair and slipped it around my wrist.  While the dentist drilled I slid and rolled the elastic band back and forth between my thumb and forefinger. I was able to ignore much of the pain.  I wasn’t letting this dentist know it hurt; I needed to be done.

At this point it wasn’t really the pain that was bothering me; it was the drilling.  The noise, the vibrations, all shaking and scratching the inside of my head made my brain feel like it was going to explode.  The bright light that had been positioned over my face for the past two hours felt like its rays were stabbing me in the eyeballs—and they were closed. 

The last thing the dentist said to me before I left was, “you will probably be numb for about two more hours, so don’t eat anything solid until then—so you don’t accidently bite yourself.”

“Um…ok.” I was already not numb!

The whole ordeal took over two hours—two hours, to get a tooth filled.  Then they wonder why I avoid the dentist at all costs.

Calming Down 

I made a B-line for the bathroom, closed myself in, and took some deep breathes. I splashed water on my face, which was extremely flushed, and try to calm myself before having to talk to anyone behind the desk to pay and make my next appointment.

By the time I left I felt completely assaulted, I was exhausted, and I desperately just wanted to take a nap.  Unfortunately, I had an appointment with my doctor and was already running late. 

After showing up frazzled and flushed, I explained what happened at the dentist.  In the middle of my ranting and raving about their stupidity he stopped me. 

What I learned floored me!

Apparently, everyone does not get numb immediately just to have it quickly wear off.  And it doesn’t usually take four rounds of shots and two hours to fill a tooth!  It always has for me, and here I go again—it truly never occurred to me that others did experience the exact same thing. 

By now I should know better.  I should know to question everything. I should know that if I feel it, it doesn’t mean they do.  If I know it, it does mean everyone knows it. And if I am thinking it, it doesn’t mean they are thinking it too!  So why does it still shock me?

Now I wonder if I am the only one—again. How many others on the spectrum experience the dentist this way?  Does anyone? What about the children? When I was a child, a visit to the dentist never went well.  I dreaded it, and I am sure my mother dreaded as well. I used to leave angry—angry at my mother (didn’t she know what it felt like?), angry at the dentist (didn’t she know what it felt like?), and angry at myself because my terrible teeth, anger, and bad behavior was all my own fault.

How do you tolerate the dentist?

How do your children tolerate the dentist?

Do they know they may be experiencing it differently? Does the dentist know?