A
Aster
Junior member
- Joined
- Sep 17, 2012
- Messages
- 5
The right dentist makes all the difference, but some added personal touches helped.
At last, I had my bottom molar extracted today, after rescheduling the appointment 4 times. Those other days seemed wrong. This date seemed right. What can I tell you? But there was other medical ick going on, too. But it's out. The oral surgeon was superb, and not expensive as these things go. The problem was that the initial consultations with other dentists made it seem as if this extraction was going to be a big hairy deal, and also as though this was the worst tooth they'd ever seen, so all that anxiety fed into seeing the referral oral surgeon. I had no idea what to expect, but I expected the worst, of course.
No. 10 minutes, tooth out, no swelling or pain. The valium, and novacaine. Injection was nothing. No digging around for the right place or any of that. An utterly uncomplicated removal. The tooth looked so good in fact, that I wish I had a photograph of it just to remind myself that this gaping hole was, of course, necessary, as implants, root canal, capping, any of that was out of the question. The tooth had severe decay underneath the ancient amalgam filling. But still - it was a darn solid tooth, even though the amalgam had broken down on one side to the gumline.
Well, as to my personal touches -- I wore a cap that I could pull over my eyes to blot out the intense light. I took 15 mg of valium, which I really could have done without, but I've been having other hairy medical problems, and this seemed reasonable to do. I also had crystals with me for courage and anxiety -- you know -- rocks. But the oral surgeon was brilliant, really. Couldn't ask for a better demeanor or sense that she knows her profession extermely well, and she was completely focused, yet sensitive to how I was doing. Her assistant was equally brilliant.
The other problem I had had prior to this appointment was getting answers mostly through the receptionist. At last, the dentist called me, and it worked like magic. I felt much more secure. Today, everyone was wonderful. But I'll tell you, front office staff make or break a lot of experiences, don't they.
I will miss that tooth. I'm not sure how I'll chew food - and I guess I'll have to wait. What remains to be seen is whether the jaw pain I was experiencing was due to that tooth - but that's for another day.
Now, the issue will be with finding a regular dentist who will be able to help me save remaining teeth from a similar fate, and I know that I'll have to come equipped with anti-drill sound something, and stick lavender up my nose or some such. The extractions, as you know, don't have all that, so I'll be back to fret and fear if I can find a dentist who doesn't act as though my mouth was the worst thing ever seen.
At last, I had my bottom molar extracted today, after rescheduling the appointment 4 times. Those other days seemed wrong. This date seemed right. What can I tell you? But there was other medical ick going on, too. But it's out. The oral surgeon was superb, and not expensive as these things go. The problem was that the initial consultations with other dentists made it seem as if this extraction was going to be a big hairy deal, and also as though this was the worst tooth they'd ever seen, so all that anxiety fed into seeing the referral oral surgeon. I had no idea what to expect, but I expected the worst, of course.
No. 10 minutes, tooth out, no swelling or pain. The valium, and novacaine. Injection was nothing. No digging around for the right place or any of that. An utterly uncomplicated removal. The tooth looked so good in fact, that I wish I had a photograph of it just to remind myself that this gaping hole was, of course, necessary, as implants, root canal, capping, any of that was out of the question. The tooth had severe decay underneath the ancient amalgam filling. But still - it was a darn solid tooth, even though the amalgam had broken down on one side to the gumline.
Well, as to my personal touches -- I wore a cap that I could pull over my eyes to blot out the intense light. I took 15 mg of valium, which I really could have done without, but I've been having other hairy medical problems, and this seemed reasonable to do. I also had crystals with me for courage and anxiety -- you know -- rocks. But the oral surgeon was brilliant, really. Couldn't ask for a better demeanor or sense that she knows her profession extermely well, and she was completely focused, yet sensitive to how I was doing. Her assistant was equally brilliant.
The other problem I had had prior to this appointment was getting answers mostly through the receptionist. At last, the dentist called me, and it worked like magic. I felt much more secure. Today, everyone was wonderful. But I'll tell you, front office staff make or break a lot of experiences, don't they.
I will miss that tooth. I'm not sure how I'll chew food - and I guess I'll have to wait. What remains to be seen is whether the jaw pain I was experiencing was due to that tooth - but that's for another day.
Now, the issue will be with finding a regular dentist who will be able to help me save remaining teeth from a similar fate, and I know that I'll have to come equipped with anti-drill sound something, and stick lavender up my nose or some such. The extractions, as you know, don't have all that, so I'll be back to fret and fear if I can find a dentist who doesn't act as though my mouth was the worst thing ever seen.
