Another Great Trip to the Dentist

 

          I am such a Big Baby about going to the dentist.  Nothing personal against the dentist or his assistance -  I just don’t like to be flat on my back as it is – and especially with my mouth open trying to breathe with tools in my mouth.

          I’ve felt fatigued the last few mornings and Richard wanted to run some errands today.  I figured riding in the car would put me further into a coma and so I took one of those energy shots to keep me awake.  Not only did it NOT keep me awake, but I think it interfered with the Novocain that the dentist gave me.  Thus I was more disoriented than I had been before we left the house.

          So the dentist lowers me down in the chair and I asked for a pillow so that I wouldn’t get a neck cramp – but that just invited him to lower me even more.  I understand the need for him to have me in that position so he can better see and work in my mouth – but for the most part I feel a little lake of saliva forming in my throuat and though I tried really hard to breathe through my nose I gagged.  I gagged at the pool of saliva and wished the suction would find it and remove it from my throat.

          I swear he used enough Novocain to knock out a large elephant. It felt like he poked me three times in the same exact area.  I was already numb from the first poke.  Why did he have to poke me again? So this is what is going through my head as my mouth was being prodded.

          “Ow, OW!  OW . . . Oh, my gosh that hurts!  If there weren’t tools in my mouth I’d probably scream.  But that would probably make my mouth more painful . . . what with risking the tools impairing me even more.

          “Ow.  OW.  Why are you prodding me in the same exact area where you have already poked?  What about the other side of my face.  OW.!  Holy cow!  The left side of my face is numb.  Why can I even feel that!  Ow”

          The assistant uses the suction cup and trickles of water.  I think she is doing a good job.  And I feel the dentist poking his pinchers into my gum again.

          “OW.  Holy Cow.  Are you kidding me?  What happens to the right side of my face?  My mouth already feels the size of a bouncy house.  My left side is numb – except where that pinch is.  OW!  Stop it already!  . . .”

          I am shaking.  Weird.  I don’t remember ever shaking in the dentist chair.  Half of my face is numb – even my left nostril.  I feel disoriented and they ask if I’m doing okay. 

          “No.  No I’m not doing okay.  I feel like I’m going to die.”

          They assured me that they would keep me alive.  That’s good.  I don’t particularly wish to die in a dentist chair.  I wasn’t quite in a coma, but felt myself slipping away.  Has Novocain ever made me tired before?  Why was I shaking?  It wasn’t until later that I decided it was the caffeine that was making me shake.  Guess that was a very unwise decision on my part.

          I was so dizzy when I left the dentist chair.  Good thing Richard was driving as I was in no condition to drive myself.  It took over four hours for the Novocain to finally wear down.  I can now drink a glass of water without dribbling.

Dear Diary

          I think someone may have been hacked on facebook who in turn tried to hack me.  I don’t know.  I was experiencing so much fatigue yesterday.  I wish I would have taken a screenshot but did not.  I saw who it was from and I think what the invitation was for and deleted automatically because of so many factors.

          So in my notifications I’m told that RAM has invited me to the Relief Society Page.  The page that I created?  Or is there a new one? And why would RAM create an RS page when he is a guy?  We are not even facebook friends.  And he is currently on vacation.  Why would he create a page and invite people in during his vacation?  I thought it said Relief Society.  Maybe it said something else?  Still – why would I want to join his page?  Was I singled out or were there others in the ward who received invites? 

 

          Okay.  Fatigue.  I think I post about it every year.  Weather change.  Always happens between Mothers’ Day and my birthday.  And then I am gone.  And I don’t come to until sometime in September.  But hey, I can breathe.  But my mind is in another dimension than the rest of me.  Is that where dementia comes from?  Not that I have dementia.  I don’t think of one who has dementia considers having dementia.  But I don’t know.  Next time someone tries to scam me over the phone I will tell them that I have dementia and that the people taking care of me won’t allow me access to my bank accounts or social security number or anything like that.  And that if they want to talk with them they should call them on their cell phone and then provide them with a number to the unified police or the FBI.  I wonder if they will call them to get my information?

 

          I just took an allergy pill.  That could be adding to my fatigue I guess.