I’m not one for being afraid of the dentist in any way… and in fact the guy I go to (Dr Fitzgerald) is a really nice fella and gentle as anything. But I draw the line when simple anesthetic procedures just don’t work!
I had a couple of fillings replaced today that were put in place when I was something like 9 years old. No sooner had the good Doc got me settled in his chair and he was at me with that scary looking needle thing that they brandish these days. A few pricks here and a few pricks there and he assured me that the top and bottom of the right side of my mouth was going to go “bye-byes” in no time. At this point I was quite prepared to believe him and all was well when he began digging away with his squealing drill at my bottom molars.
However… when he decided to start having a crack at the top of my mouth it VERY quickly became apparent to me that the “numb stuff” hadn’t kicked in at all and I swear it felt like he was finding a direct and pathway to my brain! Dr Fitz could see that I was squirming so out of the goodness of his heart he stuck me again with that antiquated needle and went back to polish the work he had started on the bottom.
I can’t say my heart rate had time to settle, nor did the blood have time to flow back into my knuckles before he went in for a second dig at my top teeth! Streeeeeuuuuuuutthhh! No change…
Cue needle stick #3.
By now I’m left thinking, “please just stuff some botox or something in there as well and maybe that’ll do the trick!”
Moral of the story is train your gums and teeth to go to sleep when prompted. I don’t know how you’re supposed to do that… but I am a disturbed and squirmy young man this evening for not taking heed of such advice!