1.) Your trip to the ER...spill it. (Mama’s Losin’ It Challenge)
Teeth are very functional and, when kept in good condition, can be helpful in enjoying one’s food, biting one’s enemy, and enhancing one’s smile. So, despite my fear of dentists, I remembered my reasons for going and made an appointment for a check-up and cleaning. At that time I was a few months pregnant with my now 4 year old son.
My appointment went like many others I’m sure, the ritual of, “So, how often do you floss? How much sugar do you eat?” And then the post x-ray expletives predictably followed by, “Wow, you’ve had a lot of work done!” (I’m not a Buick, but yes, I have had a lot of work done). Turned out I had a cavity and it was so small, they could handle it on that very same visit. I kind of think that’s the best way to approach unwanted procedures (the same goes for OB appointments and certain uncomfortable routines performed in such offices).
After an ample serving of Novocain, my mouth was sufficiently numbed and ready for drilling. The dentist and his assistant were very nice and did their best at carrying on, and translating, a conversation in Open-mouth (similar to Fish, but airier). It is almost impossible not to swallow during such procedures and of course I did it quite often while specks of tooth, silver, and the previous night’s popcorn were quarried from my mouth. Then it happened, mid-sentence between the words “augh and ugh,” that the dentist suddenly stopped and nervously asked, “did you just swallow?” I then answered, “uh-huh.” Even behind the dentist’s highly reflective glasses, I could sense the worry in his eyes. He continued, “did you feel anything when you swallowed?” By this time they had allowed my mouth to return to it’s normal position, still numb, but no longer limited to the abstract language of Open-mouth. I told him that I had not felt anything but the worried look remained. He then said something like, “I’m not sure but, I think you might have just swallowed the drill bit and I’d like to send you to the ER right away to get it removed. It might not have gone down, but just in case.” Apparently drill bits do on occasion pop off but the lady with the water and sucker thingy get them before they go down the patient’s throat. So, off I went to the hospital.
The procedure went great with the aid of a still numb mouth and then a wonderful sleeping potion. I woke up after the procedure feeling more rested than I had in months. I will always remember that drugged state as the epitome of restfulness. The doctor put some sort of scope and grabber down my throat and found the inch long, still sharp, drill bit somewhere in my intestines. They gave it to me as a souvenir and I still have it with plans to get it encased in a locket to take to every dentist appointment to be held like a charm to ward off evil teeth demons. Also, a reminder to any dentist of what can happen.
My dentist naturally paid for the procedure and apologized several times. After all was said and extracted, I felt like calling him and thanking him for the great nap.