Dental Hijinks

I tried for the second time to get that damn tooth of mine seated for a permanent crown. No dice. I got into that dentist's chair and immediately started sobbing. Couldn't stop. Dentist (who is also pregnant, about seven weeks behind me) didn't even get a chance to shoot me full of novacaine. I'm not sure I mentioned the first round of this experience. The actual root canal procedure itself was a breeze compared to drilling out the temporary crown and prepping my tooth for the permanent one.

The problem with the first time we tried this was that I had just been in the car accident not much more than a week before. Something about the drilling sound, vibrations, and pressure just absolutely freaked me out. We're talking hyperventilating through sobs freak out. We're talking nightmares for two days freak out. We're talking sudden flashbacks of the experience in the middle of meetings and commutes freak out. Yes, we're most likely talking post-traumatic stress disorder freak out.

I tried all weekend to settle myself and prepare for this morning's trip to the dentist. Frustrated Mark because he kept trying to get me to be rational about the whole thing and I just couldn't manage it. Pissed myself off because I had to reschedule the damn appointment AGAIN this morning when I couldn't settle down enough to even try the damn procedure. Also slightly miffed with Andrew because if he weren't tossed into the equation, they could pump me up with some laughing gas or happy pills to get me through this procedure.

By the way, what kind of sense does it make that the docs were willing to put me on anti-depressants for the rest of my pregnancy back when I had my work stress insanity in April but they're not willing to let me take one little anti-anxiety pill to get me through an hour or two of dental work? Are the drugs really THAT different? I was and still am much better equipped to deal with work stress and pregnancy symptoms than I am to get over irrational freak outs about a dental drill. Hell, I'm better equipped to deal with the stress and mild depression symptoms (which I'm still not convinced I really had, but apparently I worried a couple of docs who supposedly should know better) than I am to sit in a chair that months ago had a spider on it. And a very small spider at that.

Anyway, the third time has to be the charm for this permanent crown prep because the temporary crown cannot last for another rescheduling. Oh, and meanwhile, my dentist whom I love has decided to opt out of my insurance network as of this weekend. So the cost of the crown prep will likely be $100 more than it would have been today, had I managed to swallow my fear. Or I can always try to find a new dentist to try this procedure out with. Me no rikey my options. Stupid tooth.