It’s Just the Gas- The Saga of the Unexpected Dental Visit

Hello, All! Well, today ended up as one of the more bizarre days I’ve had in a while. Oh, it started out nice and normal. Daughter J was off work so I didn’t have to drive to town and back before school, and my mom didn’t have to wake up at 7:00 a.m. to come get The Squirrel. (My grandbaby, for those who aren’t up to speed.)

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So I went to school, had a good day… right up until my planning hour, when I went to take (as I usually do at that time) my calcium chews.   These things are about the size and consistency of Starburst candy and I had just put the first one in my mouth and started chewing when I suddenly realized there was something hard in it. At first I thought it was just a hard lump of sugar or something like that- maybe a lump of calcium that didn’t get blended into the mix right. What made me assume that I’ll never know, because these things don’t have sugar in them and I have never had one that wasn’t perfectly normal. Maybe I am just particularly slow on the uptake.

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Anyway. After a few seconds I realized this was not a lump of sugar or any other ingredient in the chew itself.  It was, in fact, a part of my lower left back tooth. Great.

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So, funny story. I haven’t been to the dentist in too long to remember. So I called my most recent one and they could get me in in like a week. A week!? Are you kidding? So I said ok, fine, and I walked down to the office to clarify which type of time-off request I needed to ask for. While I was in there, the sweet secretary suggested I call this other particular dentist right there in my little small town, and I hadn’t really thought of that, but decided what the heck, I’d go ahead and give it a shot.

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So I went back down to my room, called the office, and wow! They could get me in today right after school!! Talk about serendipity! So I emailed the assistant principal and told him I wasn’t going to need a day off just yet after all, and I’d let him know if anything changed.

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Fast forward to the dentist’s office, 3:45 p.m. I got there and filled out their little health form on a computer and got called back pretty quickly. They took an x-ray, which was actually a little more horrible than it should have been. I got a little uncomfortable with that thing in my jaw and got all choked up trying to keep from gagging. Coughed until I just about barfed!

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So the doctor comes in and it turns out that I will need a filling and that, surprisingly, he can do it right then. Nice! So they ask me if I need or want the nitrous gas while I’m doing this, and of COURSE I say yes. Are you kidding? It’s been several minutes since I’ve been to a dentist. So they put the little clown nose on me. (That’s what my pediatric dentist used to call it!) Started with a little oxygen to get the ball rolling and said they would start the actual good stuff in a few minutes.

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So one reason I dislike going to the dentist is I am always afraid of getting the giggles when they hit me with the gas. Like who wouldn’t be, right? Turn on the gas, get the giggles, feel really stupid. You know, that whole thing. So as they start the actual nitrous I’m sitting there waiting for the goofy feeling to start, and WHAT starts going through my head but a charming ditty from a little Broadway show called Little Shop of Horrors, a song sung by the crazy, sadistic, nutty cuckoo dentist character, entitled ‘Now (It’s Just the Gas).’  (Note- We did that show at the theatre a few years ago and I stage-managed. It was one of the best ever!)

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So all I can see in my head is our crazy actor, John Pryor, laughing and guffawing his way through that song, while one of our best leading men, Nathanael Durbin, sits squirming in the dentist chair, and I’m sitting there just PRAYING I won’t get the giggles. My mouth twitches, but I rein it in. (I know, anticlimactic.)

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So they shoot me up, let me sit there a while and baste, then they do their thing and I’m done. I expected to feel a lot loopier than I did. I was worried about driving, even, but they assured me I was fine to hit the road. So then I’m standing at the check-out desk, marveling at how utterly freaking weird my face feels, and sort of wondering if I can even sign my name when they hand me the ink pen.

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But I got it done and now I’m at home, lying here with The Squirrel while she pulls my hair out, wondering how long it will be before I can take a chance on eating supper without biting my tongue off or chewing a hole in my cheek. Guess I’ll have to give it a while!

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Until Next Time,

D.