A Nightmare of a Day
I was a passenger on a bus in an underground warren of streets in what reminded me of an airport terminal. The bus driver had been commissioned to deliver us to a particular gate, but didn't know how to get there. Another passenger had a map, but since none of the gates were labelled in any way, it was impossible to tell where we were or which of the gates we saw was the one we wanted to reach. I had a strangely familiar feeling like I'd been there before - not familiar in the sense that I knew the way to where we were going, more in the sense that I'd been in that same situation before, that we were going around in endless circles.
Steven's alarm clock went off. It was 5:30am, and time to get up for family scripture reading before the boys went off to seminary. We gathered the kids, and it took repeated knocks at Hannah's door before she awoke- she'd had a late night and was in no condition to drive the boys to seminary. After our family scripture reading, I quickly got dressed and handed John the car keys for the drive to seminary. Next week he is scheduled to take the driving test for his license, but for now, he still needs a licensed driver in the car.
After seminary, I had just left John and Josh at the school and was starting home to wake Peter for school when I felt my phone buzz. It was Steven.
"I got rear ended on my to work." He told me. "I'll need to call a tow truck to get the car. Can you come pick me up when you get a chance?"
To regulate how many cars are entering the freeway at any given time, there are traffic lights on the on-ramp, permitting one car per green light to enter the flow of traffic. Steven had stopped for the light in his little gold Honda Accord, and the girl behind him in her big Dodge Ram, while eating her breakfast cereal, hadn't noticed and plowed into the back of his car.
I drove to where he told me he was, on the southbound side of the freeway, within a mile or two of our home. Steven saw me as I pulled over behind the big truck on the side of the road and came back to where I was. Luckily, while a bit shaken, he didn't seem injured at all. As we sat there at the side of the road for the next hour and a half or so waiting for first the police and then the tow truck, I couldn't help but imagine how much worse it might have been. (I called home to make sure Peter was awake and got to school on time. Thank goodness for cell phones!) We could have been waiting for an ambulance as well. The phone call I received that day might have come from someone else with condolences. In the end, the girl's dad paid us more for the car than we would probably have gotten from the insurance company, and they hauled it away to sell to a junk yard.
When we finally got home, I had a little less than half an hour to grab some breakfast and brush my teeth before I needed to head out again for a dentist appointment. I would have liked a shower, but the city was doing work in the street replacing main water valves and the water was supposed to be turned off that day from 8am until 5pm. I don't know if it was turned off at that time or not, but I thought it was, and I didn't feel like I really had time anyway. I had missed my morning walk, too. Oh well. Steven called his work and let them know he wouldn't be in to work that day.
The plan at the dentist today was to put a crown on the tooth that had rotted away under the metal band of a permanent retainer. (See the last paragraph here) I also asked them if they would make the removable retainer that I had been supposed to receive at my previous appointment but had been deferred at the discovery that I needed this crown first... The set up was the same as normal. I chose to listen to Pandora (Imagine Dragons station) rather than try to watch a movie through the dentist's hands. The assistant wedged in a device to keep my mouth open and my tongue out of the way and told me to raise my left hand if I couldn't breathe or needed them to stop for any reason. I cranked up the music, closed my eyes and tried to tune out the world.
After a little while, the world returned to me. I was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. My nose, as usual, was stuffy, and I wasn't getting enough air through it, and I couldn't get enough oxygen through my mouth, either. I struggled on for as long as I could, until I couldn't stand it any more and I tried to raise my left hand - but there was a table or something over it - I couldn't raise it! They couldn't even see me try to raise it! I admit I panicked. I started to flail and gasp and that got their attention. They stopped what they were doing and took the apparatus from my mouth and again, finally, I could breathe. I spend a few minutes just breathing deeply, grateful for oxygen, and lungs, and air.
When they resumed, they assured me they were nearly done with that part, and they didn't bother with the device to hold my mouth open, they just wedged a roll of cotton between my tooth and gum. It really wasn't much longer before they had finished grinding that poor tooth down to a tiny nub. I was going through a rough time though. I wasn't really cold, but I was shivering. I couldn't get lost in the music again, for although my jaw was well numbed, it seemed like every once in a while the dentist would brush up against a nerve and a feeling colder than ice would lance through... something... not my tooth because it had mostly been ground away. Not my jaw because, as I said, it was numb. I was greatly relieved when they stood up and said that I would have a break for about half an hour while they made the crown.
In relief I got up and headed to the little restroom where I broke down and cried for a minute or two. I think the stress of the morning had all caught up with me in that moment and I couldn't hold the facade of calm any more. When my eyes had stopped overflowing and I could breathe normally again, I dried my eyes and headed out again. When the assistant asked if I'd like a blanket, I accepted it gratefully and wrapped my arms in its soft fuzziness. I still wasn't really cold, but I found its warmth and weight comforting, grounding. I didn't sit back in the chair right away. I felt full of nervous energy, and they weren't ready for me yet, so I paced back and forth in the little space there was in the little room. I wished I could escape the office entirely and go for a walk outside, but I didn't know what they would say about that.
Eventually the crown was molded. I returned to the chair and they tried it in my mouth, and with a little bit of configuring it fit. So they took it back to bake in the oven for a little while, and then when they brought it back, they cemented it in place. I didn't bother with the music or headphones then. I could see the reflection of my mouth in the TV screen above my head and watched the dentist's fingers as he made sure everything was dry, fit the tooth with the cement applied into its place, and then scraped off the extra cement that oozed out at the base. At last he had me tap and grind my teeth to check the fit, and they were done! Yay!
But wait... What about the retainer? Oh yeah. We'll have a payment coordinator come in and talk to you about that. The payment coordinator didn't seem to have a record that I'd already paid to have the removable retainer made. She had the original estimate I received for everything they found my first trip back to the dentist after 20+ years... but not the one for the first half of the work, or for the second half of the work - the one last month, for which I'd already paid, during which it was in the process of popping off the old retainer to make the impression for the new removable one one that they discovered that there was a cave big enough for a bear to hibernate in inside one of the teeth that the metal bands had been around, and that I needed another crown before they could do the impression for the removable retainer after all, (which is what they were doing today) and I definitely need to have a retainer because if I don't then my teeth will move and I'll lose the one and only benefit from having that horrid old retainer in my mouth for the last quarter century! Anyway, after I explained this as calmly as I could to the coordinator - and I admit that my eyes were moist and my voice was cracking as I explained, she nodded and said, yes, I probably already paid, in a condescending tone. No! I insisted. I prepaid for them to do it last time I was here! It was when they took off the old retainer to do it that they discovered that I needed this crown. I swear I already paid for it! Finally I felt like she believed me for real. She went away, and the dentist's assistant did an impression for a retainer. They'll call me in two weeks when it's ready.
By the time I got home, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep. I was done with the world. I was done with people. But I couldn't sleep. The Novocain or whatever they used to numb my mouth started to wear off and my jaw ached and I got a headache. I got a shower late that afternoon, but I felt like I needed to go to a Relief Society thing that evening and I never got a good walk that day.
A family in our ward has an extra car that they are letting us borrow for a little while until we can find a car of our own. That way Steven can get to work across town and Hannah and I can still have the van to run errands and so Hannah can get to work. Steven doesn't seem to have received any lasting harm from the accident, and that is a blessing. My teeth are taken care of, and besides getting my retainer when it is ready in two weeks, I shouldn't have to go back until my regularly scheduled cleaning next year. I'm still clinging to my sanity; I don't think I've quite lost it yet.
Steven's alarm clock went off. It was 5:30am, and time to get up for family scripture reading before the boys went off to seminary. We gathered the kids, and it took repeated knocks at Hannah's door before she awoke- she'd had a late night and was in no condition to drive the boys to seminary. After our family scripture reading, I quickly got dressed and handed John the car keys for the drive to seminary. Next week he is scheduled to take the driving test for his license, but for now, he still needs a licensed driver in the car.
After seminary, I had just left John and Josh at the school and was starting home to wake Peter for school when I felt my phone buzz. It was Steven.
"I got rear ended on my to work." He told me. "I'll need to call a tow truck to get the car. Can you come pick me up when you get a chance?"
I drove to where he told me he was, on the southbound side of the freeway, within a mile or two of our home. Steven saw me as I pulled over behind the big truck on the side of the road and came back to where I was. Luckily, while a bit shaken, he didn't seem injured at all. As we sat there at the side of the road for the next hour and a half or so waiting for first the police and then the tow truck, I couldn't help but imagine how much worse it might have been. (I called home to make sure Peter was awake and got to school on time. Thank goodness for cell phones!) We could have been waiting for an ambulance as well. The phone call I received that day might have come from someone else with condolences. In the end, the girl's dad paid us more for the car than we would probably have gotten from the insurance company, and they hauled it away to sell to a junk yard.
When we finally got home, I had a little less than half an hour to grab some breakfast and brush my teeth before I needed to head out again for a dentist appointment. I would have liked a shower, but the city was doing work in the street replacing main water valves and the water was supposed to be turned off that day from 8am until 5pm. I don't know if it was turned off at that time or not, but I thought it was, and I didn't feel like I really had time anyway. I had missed my morning walk, too. Oh well. Steven called his work and let them know he wouldn't be in to work that day.
____________________________________________________
The plan at the dentist today was to put a crown on the tooth that had rotted away under the metal band of a permanent retainer. (See the last paragraph here) I also asked them if they would make the removable retainer that I had been supposed to receive at my previous appointment but had been deferred at the discovery that I needed this crown first... The set up was the same as normal. I chose to listen to Pandora (Imagine Dragons station) rather than try to watch a movie through the dentist's hands. The assistant wedged in a device to keep my mouth open and my tongue out of the way and told me to raise my left hand if I couldn't breathe or needed them to stop for any reason. I cranked up the music, closed my eyes and tried to tune out the world.
After a little while, the world returned to me. I was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. My nose, as usual, was stuffy, and I wasn't getting enough air through it, and I couldn't get enough oxygen through my mouth, either. I struggled on for as long as I could, until I couldn't stand it any more and I tried to raise my left hand - but there was a table or something over it - I couldn't raise it! They couldn't even see me try to raise it! I admit I panicked. I started to flail and gasp and that got their attention. They stopped what they were doing and took the apparatus from my mouth and again, finally, I could breathe. I spend a few minutes just breathing deeply, grateful for oxygen, and lungs, and air.
When they resumed, they assured me they were nearly done with that part, and they didn't bother with the device to hold my mouth open, they just wedged a roll of cotton between my tooth and gum. It really wasn't much longer before they had finished grinding that poor tooth down to a tiny nub. I was going through a rough time though. I wasn't really cold, but I was shivering. I couldn't get lost in the music again, for although my jaw was well numbed, it seemed like every once in a while the dentist would brush up against a nerve and a feeling colder than ice would lance through... something... not my tooth because it had mostly been ground away. Not my jaw because, as I said, it was numb. I was greatly relieved when they stood up and said that I would have a break for about half an hour while they made the crown.
In relief I got up and headed to the little restroom where I broke down and cried for a minute or two. I think the stress of the morning had all caught up with me in that moment and I couldn't hold the facade of calm any more. When my eyes had stopped overflowing and I could breathe normally again, I dried my eyes and headed out again. When the assistant asked if I'd like a blanket, I accepted it gratefully and wrapped my arms in its soft fuzziness. I still wasn't really cold, but I found its warmth and weight comforting, grounding. I didn't sit back in the chair right away. I felt full of nervous energy, and they weren't ready for me yet, so I paced back and forth in the little space there was in the little room. I wished I could escape the office entirely and go for a walk outside, but I didn't know what they would say about that.
Eventually the crown was molded. I returned to the chair and they tried it in my mouth, and with a little bit of configuring it fit. So they took it back to bake in the oven for a little while, and then when they brought it back, they cemented it in place. I didn't bother with the music or headphones then. I could see the reflection of my mouth in the TV screen above my head and watched the dentist's fingers as he made sure everything was dry, fit the tooth with the cement applied into its place, and then scraped off the extra cement that oozed out at the base. At last he had me tap and grind my teeth to check the fit, and they were done! Yay!
But wait... What about the retainer? Oh yeah. We'll have a payment coordinator come in and talk to you about that. The payment coordinator didn't seem to have a record that I'd already paid to have the removable retainer made. She had the original estimate I received for everything they found my first trip back to the dentist after 20+ years... but not the one for the first half of the work, or for the second half of the work - the one last month, for which I'd already paid, during which it was in the process of popping off the old retainer to make the impression for the new removable one one that they discovered that there was a cave big enough for a bear to hibernate in inside one of the teeth that the metal bands had been around, and that I needed another crown before they could do the impression for the removable retainer after all, (which is what they were doing today) and I definitely need to have a retainer because if I don't then my teeth will move and I'll lose the one and only benefit from having that horrid old retainer in my mouth for the last quarter century! Anyway, after I explained this as calmly as I could to the coordinator - and I admit that my eyes were moist and my voice was cracking as I explained, she nodded and said, yes, I probably already paid, in a condescending tone. No! I insisted. I prepaid for them to do it last time I was here! It was when they took off the old retainer to do it that they discovered that I needed this crown. I swear I already paid for it! Finally I felt like she believed me for real. She went away, and the dentist's assistant did an impression for a retainer. They'll call me in two weeks when it's ready.
By the time I got home, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep. I was done with the world. I was done with people. But I couldn't sleep. The Novocain or whatever they used to numb my mouth started to wear off and my jaw ached and I got a headache. I got a shower late that afternoon, but I felt like I needed to go to a Relief Society thing that evening and I never got a good walk that day.
A family in our ward has an extra car that they are letting us borrow for a little while until we can find a car of our own. That way Steven can get to work across town and Hannah and I can still have the van to run errands and so Hannah can get to work. Steven doesn't seem to have received any lasting harm from the accident, and that is a blessing. My teeth are taken care of, and besides getting my retainer when it is ready in two weeks, I shouldn't have to go back until my regularly scheduled cleaning next year. I'm still clinging to my sanity; I don't think I've quite lost it yet.
What an awful day! So sorry! Grateful Steven is okay and you're done with the dentist for awhile.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mom!
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