The Pain in the Dentist Chair
When it comes to scary things, I think of myself as pretty tough. Stoic even. And I tend not to fall apart very easily. But all of that changes in the dentist chair.
For starters, every dentist I’ve ever seen remarks that my jaw is very small. This means I have to stretch my mouth as far as it goes just for them to be able to do any work in there, leading to soreness in the moment and for hours after such that I’ve learned to take painkillers in advance. Then there’s the newfangled sonic wand for cleanings which resonates at such a high frequency that I want to scream. But the real kicker is novocaine. Who wants a shot in the mouth? Not me. Not anyone, I’m sure. But really not me. I’m an absolute baby about it.
I’ve never had a cavity (applaud me, yes, thank you) and I didn’t need braces (luck of the draw), but I had to have a lot of teeth pulled as a kid in order to accommodate my small mouth. The first time I had novocaine, I was a kid of maybe ten and it was so awful that the memory lingers still. More shots came with the removal of all four of my wisdom teeth at eighteen. The day of my wisdom teeth extraction, I started to feel the pain about halfway through the procedure, and had to summon the will to ask for another shot (I knew that feeling the pain of the extraction would be worse). That’s when I officially learned that I metabolize novocaine quicker than most people. Great.
After those early experiences with novocaine, I was blissfully free of dental procedures until my fifties. That’s when my dentist discovered a cracked molar on the lower left side of my jaw. Dreading the novocaine needle, I asked my beloved Dan to come with me and hold my hand as they pierced my tender red flesh with their long needle. It was all I could do not to howl. Then I had to ask for more novocaine - owing to the ‘metabolizes it quicker than most’ thing – and the nurse, get this, called me a baby. I wanted to punch her in the face. But it was hard to do that laying prone and impotent in the dentist chair.
The pandemic was a convenient excuse to avoid dentists (I made up for it by upping my flossing game). I finally dragged myself back in there this Spring. “Do you grind your teeth when you sleep?” the dentist asked. To which I responded, “How would I know? I’m ASLEEP.” Whatever the cause, turns out I have another cracked molar, this time on the bottom right. They set the procedure for the day after Memorial Day.
This means that for the entire long Memorial Day weekend, all I could think about was the novocaine shot that was coming for my lower jaw on Tuesday. I could almost feel it going in. Dan and I went to a friend’s birthday party Saturday night. I thought about the needle. We had family over for brunch on Monday. I thought about the needle. I prepared for a city mediation and thought about the needle. Even finished a book proposal, and whenever I wasn’t writing some piece of that thing I was thinking about the needle. Should I ask Dan to come and hold my hand? Would I be called a baby again? How was I going to handle this?
What would YOU have done?
xo
🤗 Here’s a hug for anyone who’s afraid of the dentist.
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Advice: Find a dentist who uses a topical before the injection. You’ll barely feel it. Not sure why it’s rare, but it exists. Also, find a dentist who specializes in treating children, sensitive people, with special needs, dementia, or anxiety.
I would do whatever you need to make it through the procedure more comfortably.
I feel your pain, literally. I’ve been in a tone of pain for about two months now between a cracked molar, needing a crown, ending up needing a root canal, and severe pain and complications from it all… including severe jaw and ear pain (I had to see an ENT doc because of my ear pain and he said my jaw muscles are extremely inflamed from being stretched so far and often from all of the dental work and it’s causing my ear pain) all stemming from my molar being cracked and needing repair. I’m in pain every waking moment. I haven’t been able to chew on my left side for two months now. This has all been a complete nightmare.
You aren’t a baby for needing extra shots, wanting an hand to hold and having ptsd from past experiences. I cry like a baby every time I’m at the dentist now. Plus, my gyno told me that as we get older, it takes longer to heal and we can feel physical pain more intensely (gotta love hormones!).
I say we are the exact opposite of babies! We are scared, we know we are going to be in a lot of pain, and our pain will continue after the procedure and we suffer because of it all. Yet, we show up and lie down in the chair waiting for the pain to be delivered.
You are strong!!