If you’re joining along for our little ride through what day-to-day life might be like for a deaf person… we started at The Deaf Mommy. And now due to the rather stinkbutt comments on Facebook begging Mr. Daddy to dish the dirt on his anesthetized wifey, I bring you my attempt to minimize the damage: The Deaf Dental Patient!
(Yes, STINKBUTT… I have no idea where Itty Bit gets that?)
It started with a fatal mistake by Mr. Daddy: not logging out of Facebook.
It culminated in a thoughtful status update:
I thought it was a lovely gesture. Especially considering that he was driving at the time that it was posted.
And then… some familiar names jumped into it:
Daaaaannnnnaaaaaaa!!! I thought you were my friend?!
Julieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! What did I do you you?
GunDivaaaaaaaa, Aunt Craaaazyyyyy – y’all are ganging up on me!!!
Briaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnn!!! Don’t encourage him!
So because I know Mr. Daddy would have made this far more embarrassing, let me just fill y’all in:
I had a root canal.
An ouchie one.
After declaring that my last toothache was worse than an epidural-free childbirth (because I know what that feels like), and worse than kidney stones (because I know what that feels like), and was the worst pain the world (because I now knew what THAT felt like), I skipped the visit to Urgent Care and readily agreed to a repeat root canal.
(Let’s just say that the last trip to Urgent Care may or may not have included a nurse who thought I was drug-seeking until she saw the blood pressure jump from 110/70 to 156/104. Fun times…)
Anyhoo (that word bugs me), I packed my would-rather-have-a-baby-without-drugs-while-having-kidney-stones hurting butt into the car and headed to the specialist. They outfitted me with the lovely paper bib and swaddled me with a blanket (cuz YEESH it was cold in there).
Deaf challenge #1: Then the dentist and assistant both donned these lovely accessories:
They threw one of those lovely cheek retractors in my mouth and took some x-rays. They left the heavy lead apron thingie on me. (This is important for later, there’ll be a test).
Then they decided to numb me up.
Remember my TST about requiring an entire medical unit to hold me down for a shot?
I kinda sorta felt like yelling my head off and breaking free to run across the lobby chairs again…
I grinned and bore it (well, I kinda sorta had to – with that cheek retractor and all) as this monster came at me four times.
(Of course, it was seventeen times larger in real life)
Knowing that y’all were rooting for some blogworthy stuff from Mr. Daddy, I bailed on the offer for nitrous oxide… I have no idea what kind of True Story Tuesdays are lurking in my anesthetized mind…
I was doing awesome through the ensuing drilling – trying not to gag on all the hardware in my mouth and thinking happy thoughts… when I saw it.
The in-process x-ray of what a root canal looks like on film:
Oh Lordy… those super-sharp pins that they screw into your tooth that lead back to NERVES.
I had stuck it out for nearly an hour and I finally felt nauseous. And that lead apron thingie? Folded double on my bladder.
I was terrified to move… knowing that I could accidently bump one of those sharp thingies somewhere where it ought not to go. (Seriously you guys, as accident-prone as I am, swallowing one of those weapons…)
The lead apron thingie was making it hard for me to pull my arms out to attempt any kind of clumsy pantomime. And how exactly do you say, “I have to go pee”? It was driving me absolutely nuts as a deaf person who can sign… trying to figure that one out.
There was finally a split second without drilling and I desperately mumbled,
Can I yyyyoooos duh bafroooom?
(with drool, lots and lots of drool)
As quickly as I was sprung from my lead blanket trap, I scooted to the nearby ladies room.
And nearly screamed at the woman in the mirror.
I rushed back after scrubbing my fingers raw and trying not to touch anything… keeping my mind away from the thoughts of anything in the bathroom contaminating my forced-open mouth.
And I’m home now. Happily reporting that absolutely nothing blogworthy happened.
Well, except for my nursemaid falling asleep on the couch and Itty Bit deciding that he needed some naptime company…
See, nothing blogworthy ;)
By the way… 50,000 OnceUponAMiracle points to the first person who answers where the nickname on Mr. Daddy’s Facebook post came from :)