Dental Sedation

sedationI have no shame admitting I’m a big stupid gaybar when it comes to visiting the dentist. Funnily enough I don’t like someone holding drills and other spikey metal tools in my mouth where I can’t pull my head any futher away. That horrible surprise shock when they pick away at something on your tooth and then hit a nerve or a sensitive patch is more than enough to keep me away from the dentist altogether – which is exactly what I did for years until I found dental sedation. After all you’re looking at someone who can’t bare the imminent ‘pop’ compressed cans of American biscuits make when you peel back the cardboard rip strip. I’m a tad jumpy.

Yesterday I went to the dentist to have two fillings done. I went in, sat in the chair and received a small injection in the tender crook of my elbow. As the dentist released the elastic from around my bicep the meds roared into my veins causing the ceiling to fizzle like it was a dream. And then there was black. Although I think I was already gone before the black turned up because I actually don’t remember a definitive point between ‘fizzling ceiling’ and ‘out like a light’.

As I came to I found myself back home laying on the sofa with Wil standing nearby asking me if I wanted anything to eat. I was able to piece little bits of the day between 2pm and 6pm together with snap shot memories that appeared in my head as though I’d been standing in a pitch dark room seeing a different scene each time someone flipped a light switch on and off abruptly.

There was the bit where I got the injection whilst laying in the chair, the bit where people were holding both of my arms to support me walking towards the door of the dentist’s room. The bit where the dental assistant stopped me from falling forwards out of a chair in the waiting room while waiting for Wil to bring the car. I remember Wil walking through the door apologising for taking so long and I have a snippet picture in my head of the car seat as he helped me sit in it.

The next thing I remember was after the 30 minute drive home as we pulled into our driveway and then being led across our living room to lay on the sofa where I awoke some time later.

Wil filled in the gaps for me – the bit where the dentist said they had to drill so deep on one tooth that I may end up having a root canal done if it becomes painful. The reason Wil had been so long to get the car was because he had to go around Colchester town on the one-way system in hellish traffic and the part where I got in the car, called Wil by the name of an ex-boyfriend and then told him the ‘dials’ in the car were all wrong. Poor man, yet, as always he looked after me so fabulously well!

For a treatment that claims you stay awake and able to comply with the dentist the whole time I’m mighty impressed because if I was compliant and not just a big lifeless farting, belching lump of human, dribbling down my front in a dental chair it’s news to me. It’s the second time I’ve had dental sedation and the second time I’ve sworn I’ll never undergo the drill without it ever again. Infact, I enjoyed it so much I nearly can’t wait for the next cavities to form so I can go back for more.



  1. Little Brother said

    Sell out! Advertising this Hollywood style private dentist on your blog is bad mmkay? 😉

  2. Foxsden said

    Pah.. I didn’t see you complaining when I blogged about Alpkit, Jetboil and such like!

  3. Vic said

    If you can stay awake and comply, maybe I could undergo sedation for work?
    I absolutely hate the dentist too – the only thing that stops me from getting sedated (or put under general anesthetic!) is the cost.

  4. Little Brother said

    Hmm, Alpkit vs. an expensive la-de-da private dentists… I’ll mind my own – it’s your blog. (The Charlie Brooker blog angels are crying though…)

    Can I request more rants and an update on the parking situation outside your house…

  5. Foxsden said

    Expensive is subjective.

  6. Wil said

    I can give you a ranty update if you like Sam?

    He’s still fat, he’s still married to some 50 year old slag that makes me shudder everytime she winks at me and he still has about 27 cars too many. He also NEVER puts his bin away on bin day. The SWINE

    Angry of Ipswich

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