I have a bone to pick with the tooth fairy. I don’t know what I did to deserve what happened to me, but I don’t think the payback was fair. I think I might have PTSD from the whole incident due to the trauma of it all. Totally uncalled for!
There I was, minding my own business, enjoying some time with my family (which at times can be trauma enough on its own) and I’d noticed that my tooth was a little sore the last few days, but I had woken up several nights in a row and had been clenching my teeth so I thought maybe that was the cause. No idea why but I had just been doing it. So I started chewing on the other side of my face and that seemed to help. Albeit tricky because I am one-side, and one-side-only coordinated. I kind of looked like quasi moto eating a super hard piece of taffy. (Go ahead, get the mental image, I’ll wait) . . . anyway, it dawned on me that when I drank something, it hurt then too. No matter if it was hot or cold, it bothered me.
“Damn.” I thought to myself, “I must have a cavity.” But I never get cavities, so I was rather disappointed.
It was getting worse over a few days, so I decided to see if I could get it checked out while I was here in Germany before attempting the 16 hour trip back to the US with the Tiniest Captor. Who in their right mind would want to fly with a sore tooth AND a screaming baby? I mean, I’m a glutton for punishment and all, but come on!
My Sister-in-law was able to get me an appointment at a place in town and rather quickly which was great. Though she’d have to come with me because I speak very little German and I knew I would speak even worse German with a mouth full of dental equipment. Guten tag would sound something like “gurgle ugn aach.”
We show up at the prescribed place and time and immediately notice a few things. This is the swankiest dentist’s office I have ever seen. It was ultra hip-modern-cool (compared to most offices) with clear glass doors into all the exam rooms, plastic cube looking chairs, and hip art all over the walls. I’m fairly certain that at night they flipped on the strobes and other lights, turning it onto a hip night club. The kind where they play the “unce-unce-unce” music; Try to imagine a boot in a dryer and that’s the sound I’m thinking of.
It was peculiar that all the staff were female and appeared to be 25 or younger. The uniforms they all wore were white tight jeans with tight red polo shirts. All of the girls were gorgeous and given the uniform, I could see why the waiting room would be full of dudes. Not to mention that this totally played into my night club theory. They all must double as waitresses or something.
The dentist we met with easily was my age or younger, which made me wonder if she just came after school to have some fun torturing people for the afternoon. She wasted no time in poking my teeth with a cold cotton ball to see which tooth felt the pain. Problem with this is that I have sensitive teeth, so they all feel it. This didn’t make her happy so we jumped straight to an x-ray.
X-rays are easy except for the part where they jam a 3 inch hard plastic rectangle into your mouth, never mind that the edges are sharp enough to fillet a fish. Then they have you bite down on it while trying not to drool all over yourself so they can then radiate your head.
The x-ray revealed that I had a pretty good sized cavity and an infection around the root. I looked confused, and they just looked at me like a fresh steak in at a meat counter. It seems that they hadn’t had their quota of inflicting pain on people that day and I just became their next victim. I think I saw one lick her lips as they said “root canal,” which in German, needs no translation.
I tried to run, but I was like a coyote in a leg trap, except my mouth hurt, so there was no chance of gnawing off my own foot to save my life.
That’s when they said we’d have to do it RIGHT NOW or bad things could happen. (As opposed to what?!?)
They came back into the room with needles so big that she tried to hide it from me so I wouldn’t see it. This is when I started to panic, and people who have been around me can tell you that me panicking at the dentist usually leads to me, passed out on the chair twitching from a lack of oxygen because I forget to breathe.
She started to numb me, though I’m pretty sure she stuck that needle into my head far enough to numb my occipital lobe then started to drill on my tooth. While it didn’t feel super great and I was tense enough to play light as a feather, stiff as a board, (sans the light as a feather part), the numbing part went quickly. Aside from the constant vibration in my head from the drill bit in my mouth I was okay. . .until she hit that one spot. I screamed, grabbed her arm and shoved her away from me. Wide eyed and almost in tears I looked at her though all I could muster to squeak out was “aaaaahhhhhh.”
She grimaced and then informed me via my translator (Sister-in-law) that she’d have to stick a needle INTO MY NERVE to numb it since it was so bad. I was pretty sure I was dead-somewhere in the 7th circle of hell, and this was my punishment for something. It stands to reason that dental work would be a pretty horrific punishment in the afterlife.
I wish I could say the nerve numbing portion went without incident, but I can’t. There was lots of cringing, crying and hand crushing going on, on my part. Sister-in-law assures me I didn’t break her hand, but I don’t believe her. Perhaps her claim would have more validity if she would use her hand to do something rather than hold it like a bum wing.
Finally they got it numb, and I couldn’t swallow after that, so they were pretty sure it had worked. I was pretty sure I would drown in my own spit right there in my chair.
She set to work with these things that look like screws, doing what I’m not sure, though I know they went into my tooth, and back out of my tooth. At some point they hooked up a box with a wire to one of them and I heard some random beeping, and then a long solid beep. I thought that I felt relatively awake for someone who was flat-lining- maybe I would see a white light since I was so with it.
Then came the bad news. (As if any of it that afternoon was good) While it was cleaned out and looked better, they would only put a temporary filling into it, meaning I would have to come back AGAIN for a permanent one. This news came with a small hitch; the office was closing for Christmas and wouldn’t re-open until January 2nd, which was after I was scheduled to leave for the US. Not only would I have to have a second dentist visit, but now I’d have to do it with someone who hadn’t seen me before or know exactly what was done in my mouth.
I was assured that they would write it all down for me so I could take it to whomever I could find, which is great. . . except it’s in German. I apologize in advance to the US dentist who is taking me in next. It could be very interesting for you
There isn’t an ending to this story yet, but rather a “to-be-continued” so consider your selves lucky. More dental fun drama for you to enjoy! Though I’ll say that my tooth DOES feel better and I can drink/eat stuff without it hurting. Maybe I can chew my leg off next time I’m in a trap.