By Shannon Magsam, Ladybug’s mama
In scary movies, one of the torture devices is bamboo shoots under the fingernails, right?
Well, we had our own version of this at our house last week. Except it was a sliver of a sliver of a sliver of a bamboo shoot, down to a piece the size of a … splinter. Because it was a splinter. But you would have thought by the way she wailed and thrashed that the entire bamboo shoot was embedded under that nail.
She was convinced it was going to hurt horribly when I pulled it out with the tweezers. I was convinced it wouldn’t. She could not be reasoned with.
And right in the middle of this meltdown I had a tiny seismic activity in my brain that made me think a little of post-traumatic stress syndrome. I don’t mean to make light of this if anyone suffers from it, but I really started to sweat. And feel faint.
The stress was related to the pediatric dentist where Ladybug had a cavity filled a few months ago. The wailing and the thrashing brought it all back. So much so that after I finally got the splinter out, I immediately went and called that dentist’s office and canceled Ladybug’s next appointment. I don’t know if I’ll go back.
Listen to my tale of woe and see if you would return for a second visit:
Everything started out great. I decided not to go in with Ladybug while they put on the “pig nose” and gave her laughing gas. Or while they gave her the numbing shots. (I know you’re thinking “coward”, but I thought it might be better if I wasn’t in the room. Plus, I’m a coward). And indeed it was better, it seemed. I lurked near the open door where everything was going down and the assistant would periodically come out and give me a big thumbs up. I could hear Ladybug and she seemed fine.
So I went back to the lobby, thrilled that it was going so well. I read a magazine. And another. And another.
Realizing it had been quite a while, I went back to my post near her room and the door was shut. I could hear very unhappy noises coming from my child. My blood pressure rose and I walked closer to the door. Just as I was about to turn the knob, the assistant came out.
“I was just about to come get you,” she said.
When I went in, they were having trouble. My kid was DONE and wanted to go home. I asked the dentist how much longer and I got the 15-minute marker. I told Ladybug that they were almost finished and should just go ahead and power through. She already had the “raincoat” around her tooth and they had already done the hard stuff and – let’s just get it over with once and for all!
I held her hands and in her distress her fingernails gouged my forearms. She squeezed and said, “No, no, NO!” with cotton in her mouth. She finally calmed down, though, and we started talking about the chocolate milk shake we were going to get after this was all over (yes, I see the irony of a milk shake after getting a cavity filled, but a mama’s gotta do what a mama’s gotta do).
So about 15 minutes (or was it years?) later, they stopped. The dentist looked up at me and I felt the most enormous relief. We were finally finished. We could leave. It was over.
BUT.
When the dentist caught my eye it wasn’t to say it was over, but that there was a problem with the way the filling looked and they were going to have to do it again.
You can imagine my thoughts, how they raced, how they raged.
“Why?” I was able to mutter.
I’m still not sure I understand why, but the dentist told me, ‘Remember how the positioning of the tooth made it a food trap? Well, this one will be, too. I need to redo it.”
At least I think that’s what that dentist said because I was feeling a little faint. Further exacerbated by the blood loss from my child-inflicted scratches, no doubt. I tried to find out if Ladybug’s wiggling had messed anything up, but, again, I didn’t get a definitive answer.
I numbly listened to instructions about when Ladybug needed to come back, what we’d have to do and then I went to the front desk and made a second appointment.
The one I just canceled because I couldn’t get the nerve up for round II.
Listen, I know she has to have the tooth filled. But do I go back to the same dentist who really was generally really great and who’s familiar with my kid’s tooth positioning or do I go with my kid who told me she never, ever wants to go back there?
I know it won’t be easy at the old place or a brand new one. But would it help diffuse the trauma a little? Maybe. And I’ve got to do what is best for my kid, adult feelings be-danged.
I realize my kid can work herself up over little things (see splinter example at top) but I can appreciate her dentist anxiety. Especially since it should have already been over with, kaput, mouth closed, cavity filled.
It gives me the shakes just thinking about doing this all over again. I’m going to have to decide what to do soon. So, go ahead and tell me: what would you do?
Well I’m always very protective of dental professionals when I hear stories like this since I am a hygienist and my husband is a dentist. I totally understand the anxiety that comes with going to the dentist but I find that while some fears come from personal experiences, I really want to enourage parents to not make the fears worse by voicing their anxiety to the child at home. I can’t tell you how often I have heard parents say things like “ughhhh, I hate the dentist” or “Suzy Q, sit still or they will give you a shot.”. Comments by parents, siblings, grandparents, or cousins just make our job that much harder. I’m certain you prob didn’t do that but I wanted to address that.
In your case, you could ask the dentist if it would be ok to wait a month or two before the next appt and then schedule her a ppt right before something fun like back to school shopping :). (I still secretly pine away in the school supplies isle every August) That would give you a great bribe and then just floss the area till then. Hope that helps.
To all the dentist haters out there– there is definately an alternative….. DENTURES 😉
And p.s. People Please don’t sit down and immediately say “I hate the dentist office!” it’s not nice and we definitely know you don’t want to be there without that getting said to us at least 10x per day 🙂
Jenna,
Thanks so much for your comment. Very good points and I can certainly appreciate your position as a hygienist! I’m sure everyone’s comments get tedious. I certainly didn’t mean to cast the profession in a bad light.
Promise, Scout’s honor, that I don’t say negative things about dentists ever to my kiddo. I don’t want her to have a fear that I helped create. I’m always very positive which is pretty easy because I don’t have a dental phobia.
Really, truly, the dentist we saw was great. I really don’t know what happened with the filling. People makes mistakes and I understand that — or maybe it was because L. was moving around.
I just honestly can’t decide whether to take her back there or somewhere else.
I appreciate your good advice. I’ll have to up the ante from a chocolate shake, huh? 😉
Thanks again!
-Shannon M.