Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Going to the Dentist
When I was 4 o4 5, I remember my parents taking me to the dentist and there, I was given medicine which made me fall asleep. When I woke up, at least 4 of my molars had been taken out. It was very painful and I soon learned that going to the dentist was painful and scary.
This morning was Owen's long awaited dentist appointment. Because of his panic attacks, I take him to a children's specialist whom we have been seeing for about ten years (Dorothy saw him until she was 19). Besides being very gentle, kind and patient, this guy has a fish tank, a castle, as well as lots of books and pictures to look at. Another important point is that he will give Nitrous Oxide to children. This was the last of four appointments over the past six months to deal with his serious cavities and screwed up teeth.
The use of "laughing gas" during dentist appointments has produced interesting effects on my kids. Dorothy would laugh whenever the dentist used the drill. She also was certain that she could see through her nose while under the influence. Zoe asked the dentist to marry her one day. Generally it gives Owen enough a relaxed feeling so that he can tolerate the procedures.
Today, I don't think the dentist waited long enough, as Owen started having a panic attack when he started spraying on the initial numbing agent to his gum. He was crying and screaming by the time the dentist tried to use the needle. So we stopped. The dentist gave him more time to get "relaxed"... and then everything was fine. At least until the filling was done and then Owen realized that the dentist was about to pull out one of his teeth. (This was a tooth that would not come out on its own and the new one was pushing up from underneath)
Owen became very angry and said "I don't agree with you pulling out my tooth!" (actually he shouted this). So we had to stop again and explain it to him. He was very upset - even with promises of tooth fairy visits and maybe a chocolate milkshake later in the day. Poor little guy.
I was smarter this time and had brought our coats and boots into a small room nearby, so that after the appointment was over we could leave quickly out the back door. This way we could avoid the crowds of kids waiting with parents in the waiting room.
On the way home, sobbing, Owen said..."I really hate going to the dentist". I said..."Me too."
This morning was Owen's long awaited dentist appointment. Because of his panic attacks, I take him to a children's specialist whom we have been seeing for about ten years (Dorothy saw him until she was 19). Besides being very gentle, kind and patient, this guy has a fish tank, a castle, as well as lots of books and pictures to look at. Another important point is that he will give Nitrous Oxide to children. This was the last of four appointments over the past six months to deal with his serious cavities and screwed up teeth.
The use of "laughing gas" during dentist appointments has produced interesting effects on my kids. Dorothy would laugh whenever the dentist used the drill. She also was certain that she could see through her nose while under the influence. Zoe asked the dentist to marry her one day. Generally it gives Owen enough a relaxed feeling so that he can tolerate the procedures.
Today, I don't think the dentist waited long enough, as Owen started having a panic attack when he started spraying on the initial numbing agent to his gum. He was crying and screaming by the time the dentist tried to use the needle. So we stopped. The dentist gave him more time to get "relaxed"... and then everything was fine. At least until the filling was done and then Owen realized that the dentist was about to pull out one of his teeth. (This was a tooth that would not come out on its own and the new one was pushing up from underneath)
Owen became very angry and said "I don't agree with you pulling out my tooth!" (actually he shouted this). So we had to stop again and explain it to him. He was very upset - even with promises of tooth fairy visits and maybe a chocolate milkshake later in the day. Poor little guy.
I was smarter this time and had brought our coats and boots into a small room nearby, so that after the appointment was over we could leave quickly out the back door. This way we could avoid the crowds of kids waiting with parents in the waiting room.
On the way home, sobbing, Owen said..."I really hate going to the dentist". I said..."Me too."
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Ugh! Poor Owen! That sounds horrific. We have a dentist whose hands smell like cigarettes. Our insurance doesn't cover pediatric dentistry. But we've lucked out so far with not needing anything done. I hope Owen is over the trauma. Next time you should get a dose of that gas before you bring your son in, then you'll be busy seeing through your nose like your daughter does!
Kim C. of RH
Kim C. of RH
# posted by 
: 1:47 a.m.
: 1:47 a.m.
I'll say it again - I think you deserve a medal for patience and good humor where this sort of thing is concerned.
I'm glad you all survived the experience!
Darby
I'm glad you all survived the experience!
Darby
# posted by : 9:02 p.m.
: 9:02 p.m.
So very traumatic! Thank you for stopping by my site the other day. Sorry it has taken me so long to get here. I will come back again.
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