I hadn’t gone to the dentist in 3 years. Shameful, I know! But in my defense, I take really good care of my teeth and haven’t had any problems. Until last month when one of my molars started sending little electric shocks to my brain every time I took a sip of cold water. I was almost sure I had a cavity. To make a rather long story short, I made an appointment to a dentist right across the street from my apartment, went in, sat in the chair, got an X ray, got the nasty cavity confirmed and was assured that a filling would fix it. My very first one. Yay?! No, not really. The doctor actually assured me “You’ll be under anesthesia, of course!”
After the mild anesthetic, he gave me a first dose of Novocaine, and then said “for the lower jaw I sometimes give two doses, depending on your tolerance”. I waited a bit after the first dose, and it was obvious I needed a second one. Then we waited some more. Around 5 minutes passed and I could still feel my lower lip which was supposed to be really numb. We waited a bit more and what do you know, the funniest thing was happening in my mouth – bear in mind, this was my first semi-serious dental intervention ever. That tingling/icy feeling was so funny I couldn’t stop touching my lip and giggling. Right there on the chair. Could I get a Margarita, please? The Novocaine solo party didn’t last long because the doctor told me I’m probably good and brought forth, you know, one of the most dreaded things on the planet (up there in top 10 with being abducted by aliens, cannibals or the mafia, plane crashes and watching a Miley Cyrus video), the drilling instrument. Bzzzzzzzz. Wait, it gets better.
As soon as it touched my tooth it was as if the SS Police barged in on my party and were very displeased with the theme and decorations. For a split second I felt all the “z” in bzzzzzzzzz… and before I could gesture anything I thought my brains were being mushed into a strawberry-colored smoothie. And that’s how I got my third dose of Novocaine. Which luckily did its job.
Fast forward twenty minutes and everything was over. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d imagined from the nightmarish dentist stories people tell. I paid my bill and left. Two minutes later, I was at home, checking out the filling in the bathroom mirror, when I realized I had drooled all over my shirt. Very classy. The drug effect was still going strong and the left side of my mouth was really asleep. I kept probing and twisting my tongue to see what I could feel. And it was all so much fun! Seriously, guys, this almost made up for all the unpleasantness. Now fast forward again and five hours later… hey, what is this not nice sensation in my mouth? It hurts. IT HURTS! Make it stop!
Turns out, I took a huge bite of my tongue and I could only eat puree the following day. Yeah, I take it all back. Going to the dentist sucks.