Monday, December 05, 2005

I Survived (World's Worst Dental Patient--Part 5)


Well, auspicious day for this post to be late. Y'all probably thought I died. Nope, just Internet problems. As you can see, I survived.

I have a new outlook on drugs.

Never took illegal drugs in my life. Don’t drink. Take aspirin when I absolutely have to. That’s it for me. Until now. Those dentists—they’ve got some powerful stuff, BGs.

Last week I told you the dentist gave me a baby pill to take at home--all of .25 milligrams worth. (I told him I was super sensitive to the stuff.) I was to take it at 7 a.m. and report to his office at 8:00. Well, of all possible timing, at 7 a.m., the 700 Club airs in our area. So I popped the pill and settled down on the couch to watch the show that would include the segment on my healing.

First fifteen minutes of the show—not me. Second fifteen minutes—not me. Third fif—ah. There was my segment, about 40 minutes into the show. I watched it with my family. My 16–year-old even stopped putting on her make-up long enough to watch. It was great. Thought they did a good job. By 7:46 it was over. Time for hubby (who’d just appeared on TV with me, whoohaw) to drive me to the dentist.

Suddenly, I am feeling . . . strange.

I get up. Start to walk toward the kitchen. I don’t know, the wall moves or something. Right into my path. I bounce off and try again.

I have this vague recollection of getting into the car.

At the dentist’s office, the doc sees me through the window as we pull up. His assistant is out the door before I can even get out of the car. She takes my arm. I’m saying I’m fine. Not. The doc’s doorway moves as I fumble my way inside. I bounce off it and continue on, dignity intact. I think.

“Hey, doc! I’m here, let’s party!”

Only I don’t think it sounded quite like that. More like, “Heeeey, doooccc, mmm heeeere, lesssss paarrrrteeeee.”

I remember moving to the chair. The chair that I normally hate. That normally wigs me out just to look at it. Now I don’t care. I plop right down. “Lessss doooo thiissss thinngggg.”

Doc gives me more drugs. Whoooohawwww. They’re crystals under my tongue. Taste like Sweet ‘n’ Low. He let’s me sit so I can . . . drift.

After awhile he comes back. Asks me if I’m ready. “Nuhhh-uuhh. Hittt meeee with sommmme mooorrrre.”

He obliges.

I have this vague recollection of asking for a third hit.

At some point he asks if I’m ready. I’m ready, all right. For anything. All fear gone. You hear me—all fear. And I’m in the dentist’s chair, for heaven’s sake! Man, I can take on the world!

As long as I don’t need to stand up to do it.

I feel the needle go into my cheek for the numbing. I don’t care. Another needle. (Remember, I had three crowns to do.) I don’t care.

The Big D comes my way. By this time I should have a heartbeat of 500, sweat pouring off me. But now? I don’t care.

The drill goes on. The fun begins in my mouth.

I don’t care.

I don’t remember sleeping. I thought I was awake. I suppose I was in and out. ’Cause next thing I know, doc’s telling me I need to wake up a little so I can tell him if the temporary crowns in my mouth feel OK. And all of a sudden, I’m coming out of my drug haze. Just like that. It’s the craziest thing. I ask the doc, “How does this happen?” He says he’s kinda figured out how much to give a person so they’ll be out of their mind just long enough for the procedure. I ask what time it is. Almost 12:00. Twelve o’clock! Four hours in that chair?! Where has the time gone?

They call my husband to come get me. Doc’s assistant holds my arm as I get out of the chair. I say I’m fine. I think. Except that a wall shifts on me—just a little. Mark comes in and signs some paper and walks me back out to the car. But not before I tell Doc those drugs of his are the best things since sliced bread, and he’s the best dentist in the whole wide world. I am so relieved, I could cry.

I come home and feel quite fine. Hit my computer, do some e-mails. Then decide to take a nap. Hey, I’ve had a rough day.

Doc calls to check on me around 6:00 p.m. (Told you he’s a great guy.) I tell him I’m fine, and did I mention how awesome those drugs are? He asks me to tell him the secret code.

“Huh?”

“I always tell my patients the secret code—ABC123. Only two people have remembered it later.”

Not remembering is bliss.

Of course as soon as my brain was totally on straight (if it ever is), I started thinking about those drugs, and how I could use ’em for much mayhem in a story. Trust me, the day will come.

Two days later, I’m still amazed at the whole thing. There’s a lesson to be learned in all this madness, although I’ve not quite figured it out yet. Something about fear, and how it hinders us—and how amazing we can be when it’s totally gone. Well, I suppose some fear is healthy, like the fear of jumping off a tall building. But you get the idea.

The new hero in my life? A drug-totin’ dentist. From now on, bring on the Big D! Just gimme those hoppin’ Little Ds under my tongue first, and I’m good to go.


13 comments:

ValMarie said...

I'm glad to hear that you made it through your appointment alright. :-) And I look forward to reading about drugs in some future book and knowing where you got the idea from. ;-)

Domino said...

Good for you, BC!

I'll have to ask for drugs next time. I almost ran screaming out of a dentist's office when he pinched my cheek way too hard just before putting a needle in my mouth. That was the only time I felt like slapping a dentist who was hovering over me. There was no "let's do this thing" from me that day.

Cara Putman said...

I can see the story line playing in your mind now. Someday I'll read a book and think, "Hey, Brandilyn was able to put that in a book." Never know where God will give you plot material.

Congratulations on thriving through the procedure and on a wonderful 700 Club story. God is awesome!

Stuart said...

You haven't experienced life until you've had a dentist stick that numbing needle directly into your jaw nerve (has happened to me 2x). My entire body jerked off the chair.

I'll have to come see your dentist Brandilyn. 4 crowns and -2 wisdom teeth and all I ever got was the stupid needle. :p

Becky said...

Brandilyn. if you ever want to give up your suspense writing, you have a future in comedic writing! ; D I was chuckling the whole way through this post--moving walls and all. Very funny.

And if I haven't mentioned it, great story on 700 Club--worth the wait.

Becky

Lynette Eason said...

Ah, BC Welcome back...alive and well...yes drugs are wonderful. When I was pregnant with the first, doc asked me if I wanted an epidural when the time came. I laughed and said, "Oh, we'll see." With the second, I went into the delivery room with a t-shirt that said, "Just say 'Yes' to drugs!" And then had them all listed, "Stadol, Demerol, Tylox, Phenergrin, Extra-Strength Tylenol, Lortab, etc..." Well, you get the idea...

So, I'm right there with you. I've never done an illegal drug in my life, but give me those prescription ones "when the time comes!

Pammer said...

ROFL! So glad you survived. I couldn't live without my Brandilyn fix!

Hugs!

Bonnie Calhoun said...

I'm also ROFLOL!! That was great! Have you ever thought about having a comic relief character. You'd be great at it!

I'm almost half way through Web of Lies.....Dynamite, you never cease to amaze me. Your ability to be fresh and new is something to be learned! (Trying not to give anything away!)

Barb said...

I could identify with your experience, since it happened to me when I had my wisdom teeth out. I am terrified of Dentists and I, too, required the little pill. That is- a little pill the night before and another little pill in the a.m.
And then when I get in the chair there was the I.V. in the arm, the gas thing on the nose and the stereo headphones piping in elevator music. Sometime later the doc leaned over and said it's all over and I can remember trying to look him in the face and cooing..."so soooooooon?"
This from a girl who wants to run screaming into the night when approached by the man in the little white coat.

C.J. Darlington said...

I must admit, when that post was late a little niggling worry thought entered my mind! So glad to hear all's well. And it was great to be able to hear your voice on the 700 club. Amazing testimony. God is so good. Our healer. Wow.

M. C. Pearson said...

Awesome story! When all fear is gone, you don't even mind walking into a door in front of the world.

Camy Tang said...

I'm glad things turned out so well for you! I was praying.

I can relate to the wonderfulness of drugs. I had a pump shooting lovely novacaine into my knee after surgery at a rate of 2 milliliters per hour. Terrific stuff. When they took out the catheter, I cried.

Camy

Pam Meyers said...

Brandilyn! I just read about your drug-filled visit to the dentist! If Deb Raney sees this she'll have one over on you LOL. Something does strike fear into Brandilyn's heart! The dentist chair. I've gone through crowns, root canals, extractions, gum surgeries, but I am brave :-). A couple shots and I'm good to go. During my last long bout in the chair for what I call a "triple crown" I had to ask for a potty break. One of the hazards of staying awake.