"you, of all people...."

My dentist's office called me this morning to check up on me. I said I was fine, but how long would it be until the numbness went away?  Shannon said, "It should be gone by now, but let me check with the dentist, hang on."

A minute later Dr. Davey gets on the line and asks me where I'm still numb.  I told him my tongue, the right half.  He said that it wasn't leftover anesthetic, but a known, yet rare, complication of dental treatment.  When he'd injected me with Novocaine, he'd hit the lingual nerve, which causes numbness. Lingual Paresthesia is the technical term, or so Dr. Google informed me later.  It could recover in two days, two months, two years - or never.

Dr. Davey said, "It had to happen to you, of all people."

Yep. I told you, me and dentists do not do well together.

Once my cancer treatment is over he wants me to come in every three months for cleanings.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!

Right.

Now,  I don't say that because of Dr. Davey, who was wonderful, kind and caring as was his entire office staff.  Go see them if you are in Sacramento, I highly recommend them.  I know that this tongue thing wasn't his fault - they can't see where that particular nerve is.   It happens sometimes and it's just one of those things that occurs for no reason.  Like cancer.

But, every time I go to the dentist I have some very weird thing happen to me.  The universe is saying, "No More Dentists."  I think I should heed the 'verse.

Well, I'm just considering this tongue situation a preview of the chemo side effects to come, because now everything tastes like metal.

My dental appointment

With great trepidation, I got in the car to go to the dentist.

Words that bring a chill to my heart.

Because the office was close to my son's school, I picked him up first, and then proceeded to make my decent into hell.

I figured having the kid there would force me to be brave.  You can't break down and cry in front of a 12 year old boy - they just get grossed out.  Especially one who has no fear of dentists.

(And, the fact that I felt teary at the thought of this dentist appointment should tell you something.  I think the last time I cried was during my first son's birth, almost 23 years ago.  It was 48 hours of hard labor, with pitosin, and completely unmedicated.  I think I dropped a tear at hour 32, after screaming GET IT OUT OF ME and they wouldn't.)

To lighten the mood on the way to the dentist office, I bet my son that there would be a fishtank in the dentist's office.  When we arrived, he was pleased to point out, "Look mom, there's no fishtank."  He'd failed to turn around.  I pointed to the back wall, and he saw it.  He has his father's keen observational skills.

Now comes the part that disappointed me.  Nobody there was wearing horns.  Nobody there was carrying pitchforks. Nobody there had evil eyes with gleaming white teeth a cruel, malevolent smile.

In fact, everybody was amazingly nice and incredibly solicitous.  And, I do mean everybody. If the lady who sweeps the floors at night had been there, I know she'd have come out and wished me well and maybe even shined my shoes - they were THAT nice.

I can't complain about this appointment, as much as I want to.

I can't complain about the dental assistant, who took her time taking x-rays so I wasn't freaked and who doubled up the lead protection on my chest in case I had to have radiation later. She never laughed at me, even when my blood pressure, which is usually 110/70, and has never been higher than 120/70 - not even when was hospitalized with appendicitis - shot up to 140/85, nor when I gagged during the x-ray procedure.

I can't complain about the dentist, who was extremely  understanding about my fear, told me what he was going to do before he did it, and who did not give me one lecture about flossing or brushing.

(Have you ever had a dentist skip that lesson?  I haven't.)

I almost fell in love when he told me my teeth looked in really good shape for not having any cleanings or treatments for 8 years.  I was sure he was going to tell me they weree rotted out and needed to be pulled.

I can't complain when he spent 40 minutes going over my medications and any interactions with ones he wants to give me to make sure I'd be safe.  Or when he said he'd contact his friend who is a professor at Harvard Medical School to be sure everything would be fine.

I can't complain about the office staff who understood I needed to do this quickly and, despite the fact that this dentist was fully booked until December, made that happen.  (October 7th is the day.)

I can't complain about the other patients - one of whom gave up their appointment slot to give it to me so I can get everything done before chemo.  Whoever that anonymous person is - and I don't know if you were even informed of why you were asked to move - you deserve good karma.

As for the diagnosis, I do have gum disease, under the gum line, as anybody who'd gone years without dental care would.  They can do that in one treatment  (as long as I'm sedated) and the bacteria will be gone for chemo.   I have a cracked tooth (which I knew) which is creating heat/cold sensitivity.  I have one small cavity.  Other than that, nothing else is wrong.  Cosmetically,  I have a cap on the front tooth that is 20 years old and my other front tooth broke off years ago, was cemented together and is discolored.  They can do Da Vinci veneers for those - all in the same treatment.  He said my other teeth look fine.

They even are going to rush the veneer process, because they are made off-site and will come in about the time I start chemo, and my temporary caps might not withstand any vomiting that could happen.

What can I say?  Maybe not every dentist trained at the Steve Martin school of dentistry.

But, there is one creepy thing.

Super creepy in fact.

The sedation they are giving me (this is sedation dentistry) ..well, it keeps you awake.  You are apparently there, but not there.  You need to be monitored but can walk and talk and respond.  If you have to pee, they take you.....but you know you have to pee.  You won't remember anything but are apparently function as normal.  I can listen to music on my iPhone, but not text.  Because, I won't know what I'm saying but will be capable of saying it.   My husband has to come and sign papers that says he realizes that I may act normal but will not actually BE normal and need to be monitored.

That's just weird.  I hope I don't confess that murder I committed.

Especially since it was a dentist I killed.


I'm giving a shameless plug to this dentist, because he was so great.  If you are in Sacramento, here ya go:

http://www.daveydental.com/

I have a confession

Seinfeld fans will know what I mean when I say I'm an anti-dentite. I know, I know, go ahead and call me a bigot. But, if you'd had the same tortures inflicted on you by those in the dental profession that I have had, you'd be one too.

Remember Steve Martin in Little Shop of Horrors? He was my first dentist. For years, I walked around with one of those horrifying looking and extremely painful headgear creations that are sadistically rooted into your skull.  To this day, I can feel the pain from that piece of tormenting architecture - long after I've forgotten the pain of childbirth.

And, no dentist since the first has been any better. In fact, one married and then cheated on one of my loved ones.  No surprise there, considering they have evil in their souls.

Despite my last DDS (Demonic Dental Sadist) who believed digging into vulnerable nerve endings and sensitive teeth while your sinuses are clogged and your throat is closed  is the height of enjoyment, I still went. I'm a responsible adult, after all.   Not every six months, like they request in order to get your insurance money keep your teeth healthy, but I did go yearly.

And, without valium, I might add.  Not that I didn't try to get some.

My final straw with these demons from hell was when I needed a root canal and my wisdom teeth out.  I showed up on time and was delighted that this time I would be put under anesthesia.  Finally!  A dental experience I could enjoy.

I woke up after the procedure, only to be told there had been a complication, and that my sinus had been punctured.  I got an immediate sinus infection, and a few days later began to cough.  And cough.  And cough some more.  I ended up in the hospital with bacterial pneumonia.  I was hospitalized for a week, on an antibiotic IV drip. I had a collapsed lung and an infection so bad it had spread to my kidneys and bladder.  Naturally, it was caused by dental treatment .  The infected tooth and punctured sinus leaked bacteria bugs down into my lungs and almost killed me.

And, if you think Steve Martin didn't get a thrill out of that, you need to think again.

So, I gave up.  I stopped going.  I ignored dentists.  I flossed, I bought fancy expensive electric toothbrushes.  I did everything I was supposed to, but go to a dentist.  Two years went by.  Three.  I began to realize that this probably wasn't smart, so I'd make an appointment.

And cancel.

By now, I had a full-fledged phobia. 

Guess what I found out?  If you have chemotherapy with gum disease and bad teeth, it can make you sick.  Those bacteria that just slowly eat away at your gums until your teeth drop out when you are 70 can actually kill you when you have no immune system.

So, today, I called the devil.  I found a "sedation dentist" and explained I'll be facing chemo in November and need to get everything done at once.  They fit me in for October 1st. I guess I'll do a little whitening too, as my reward for undergoing horrendous torture.    If I'm going to lose my hair,  I should at least have white teeth.

I'm way more nervous about this than anything else.

Cancer sucks.  It made me go to the dentist.