The Odd Mix

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Location: Virginia, United States

Friday, February 17, 2006

The Valentine’s Day from H-E-Double Toothpick

Monday evening MDW (my dear wife) called me at work. “Call the dentist,” she says. This is significant for several reasons; primary among them is she is severely phobic of dentists (is there a word for that? dentomedophobia?)  and has not, therefore, been to see one in about three years. At this point she was in an extraordinary amount of pain.  I knew she was in an extraordinary amount of pain because she was volunteering to go. Our old dentist said that in 25 years of practice she was in the top 5 phobics he’d ever met.  She hyperventilates when we park at the dentist’s office even after having taken Xanax.

So, I dutifully secured an appointment at the local family dentist. She took a Percocet and a Hydromorphone and went to sleep.

Tuesday morning actually started out fairly well.  I slept in (till 8:00 which is like noon for me).  The kids liked the little boxes of chocolates I left on their bed.  They tried to share with my wife who declined politely (another reason I knew she was in pain – MDW is a chocoholic).

I went out and got the horses fed and watered, got the kids dressed, got MDW medicated, made the kids lunch, load up the kids, carried MWD to her truck…  Yes carried, the Xanax had hit her hard enough that when she tried to get up from putting her shoes on, she wound up tripoding with her knees and face. OK, time for the fireman’s carry.

So we get to the dentists office and I get her into the chair.  The dentist tells me I should not have given her the Xanax. I explain that without it she would not be in the chair. OK, let’s take an X-ray.  Oops, MDW needs a root canal… but this dentist doesn’t do root canals – or extractions.  How about a referral, sir?  Go home and call for an appointment sometime next week. Riiiiiight. Jerks.

So we head into town from the dentist’s.  And the truck starts to loose power. You guessed it – out of gas. Off I set on a two mile hike in the slush to the nearest gas station while MDW naps in the car – along with the four kids.

On my way to the gas station I pass a dentist office and figure, “What harm in asking?” Yes they can do what she needs.  No they don’t have time to do it today. “Would you like us to call another dentist’s office and get you an appointment?” Why, yes, thank you, I would like that very much!

Gassed up and MDW still drugged, we were off again to our last stop of the day where MDW spent over two hours in the chair getting a root canal.  The good news in all this is that the last stop was the first dentist she has ever had who didn’t hurt her.  She went back the next day without any hyperventilating and got three fillings.  The best part was when I went in to get her after her fillings; she looked at me with a dazed expression and said, “It didn’t hurt! Wasn’t it supposed to hurt?”

Not the Valentine’s Day I had planned, but a good thing in the end.


Annelise was very excited to get her “choc-ats” in the heart box.   She took a small bite out of each one to see what was inside before she selected a caramel to eat.

MDW: “Can you count them, ‘Liese?”
‘Liese: Touching each as she counts, “One, Two, Eight, huh? Chocat on my fing-er!”


Blogger Tink said...

I'm totally getting the mental images of your drugged up wife. Poor woman. She's lucky to have a hubby that will give her meds, carry her around, and get her teeth pulled, come hell or high water.

11:16 AM, February 17, 2006  
Blogger Susie said...

I had to comment on your wifes denti-phobia. I have it too. Not AS bad but practically crying yes. I avoid at all costs. Very bad as it usually means I need LOTS OF WORK by the time I get in the chair. I had an incident this summer that had me shaking for a week - but after it happened I was like wow no big deal.

I'm sure my husband can relate to supporting a denti-phobe. Sounds like you did great.

9:39 PM, February 23, 2006  

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