This Is Why I Hate the Dentist (In General)

This morning, I had a dental appointment at 0730. I hate the dentist, but I was in desperate need of having a molar extracted. (My teeth are horrible, but because I'm still "young" I can't convince the dentists to let me get dentures.) By 8, I had texted my husband to let him know I had still not been called back. This of course meant I was called before the text even sent.

The dentist came in, whom I had never seen before, and started telling me all about how he WOULD try to save the tooth, but even a root canal may not be effective and it would just have to be pulled later and blah blah blah. I wasn't really listening. I already knew what was about to happen, AND it's not the first molar I've lost in recent years. I know it will be noisy and lots of pressure, and be a horrid experience.

This was however, the first extraction I've had in the military dental clinic. While the other visits I've had haven't been much different than a civilian clinic, this one just screamed "this is the military, and they don't really want to be taking care of dependents". It took them a good 20 minutes to get set up, all the while I could hear the assistant shuffling the "instruments" which actually sounded like she was digging in a tool box in a garage.

After being numbed up, and making a quick trip to the bathroom while the doc got the form for me to sign giving him permission to remove a part of my body, they set to work. And it was REALLY uncomfortable. The assistant had to support my chin, and I was struggling to keep my mouth open wide enough. Someone had the bright idea to put a piece of gauze on my tongue, which then caused me to gag. 

A few minutes after they realized that that wasn't such a great idea, the assistant said something about HER teeth hurting. While I had something referred to as the "cow clamp" jutting out of my gullet. Apparently, this dental assistant is also a mind reader, because not long after I thought "Would you shut up? You have no idea what pain is at this moment", her hand slipped on the spit sucker thing, and she PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE. Well, in the chin. But it's part of my face. 

Not a minute after that happened, I blacked out from the pressure or some such being applied to my jaw. 

I was KNOCKED OUT in the middle of having my tooth pulled. 

My original plan was to take just the morning off work, pop an ibuprofen and then sleep once daycare was over. Because of the passing out, not only did I get the day off from work, but the hubby did too, because the dentist suggested I needed a babysitter. 

(And I still feel like crap, so I am taking tomorrow off too. Though, I don't have a babysitter. Unless you count the kids. Who make excellent PB&Js and pour a mean glass of Kool Aid!)