It used to be that I managed a visit to the dentist very well. Today was not so great; indeed the last two visits each involving enormous injections to the back molars were rather traumatic. On one occasion I felt a rush of blood to my head followed by fast thumping of my heart and a ringing in the ears. Said dentist admitted that he must have injected straight into a blood vessel, thus causing a release of adrenalin.
So I thought today would be different, after all the filling was on the other side of my mouth. It turned out to be another back molar – this time the injection sprayed onto my tongue and into the air as well as reaching deep into my jaw. Sorry about the graphic details………. it’s just that I cannot believe that I am losing the plot when it comes to keeping cool and in control whilst having necessary repairs to my rather elderly teeth.
OK I admit it – I squeaked – just a little and tried to get on with breathing techniques, (for some reason – probably fear – all my prayer routines fled.) After the drilling, the banging and the water swirling round I was assaulted with the clampy-thing they use to put the filling in place…… then came the gluey injector, followed by the light stick and eventually the blue paper, the grinding the teeth back and forth and yet more drilling.
I do hope I don’t have to go back for another six months. Excuse the lurid details and do laugh rather than cry and don’t take it all too seriously. At least this post has helped me to feel better.
I really feel for you Freda. The whole process should be much more civilised these days.
Easy for me to say (now that I’m lucky enough to have a really good and sensitive dentist), but I have had your sort of experience many times in the past and know only too well how ragged and battered it leaves one feeling.
Dentists are right up there with spiders on my “most terrifying” list.
Here’s hoping you don’t have to see him again for a very long time.
Blessings.
Oh I feel for you. I dread visits to the dentist, and it isn’t getting any better as the years go by. Dianne
I would say your writing about your ideal got it off your chest …or I should say off your molars. Glad it’s over !