Black Currents continued…

 I regained consciousness about two minutes later – though it felt more like a year later.  The dental assistant was holding smelling saltz under my nose while the doctor was taking my blood pressure. 

"What the heck just happened??" 

Then I remembered and my stomach almost flipped out of my throat.  The doctor was watching me real close asking me if I was okay and if I wanted her to call an Ambulance.  I gave her a horrified look,

"No, I’ll be okay.  I’m sorry."

"I’ve had nervous patients before, but never one who passed out.  Are you prone to panic attacks or phobias?" 

"Well, it’s true that I’ve been stressed out lately, and I did have a panic attack last week but this…this brought back memories from when I was about 12 years old that I didn’t even know existed until just now.  I don’t understand why, I’ve been to the dentist a few times since then and I’ve never had that happen.  I’m just as suprised and shocked as you.  Not being able to breath – and being stressed out, I guess, made me remember."

The doctor had a couple private words with her assistant, who left the room, and she sat back down next to me.  "What do you remember?  It obviously had to have been pretty traumatic for you to not have remembered it until just now.  You don’t have to tell me if it makes you too uncomfortable but until this is delt with, it wouldn’t be a good idea to continue."   

"Does that mean the tooth isn’t finished?" 

"No, I was just finishing up when you passed out.  I do have to check it once more to make sure the filling is set right, but we can hold off on that until you’re comfortable."

The assistant walked back in with a glass of water, handed it to me and then left.  I took a few sips (half of which drooled out onto my bib since my whole bottom lip was numb) and when the shaking in my hands calmed down, I explained what I remembered.

(this is actually more detailed than what I told the dentist; her being given the condensed version – because it wasn’t until after I got home that I was able to remember the details and process it all.)

"I was around 12 or 13 years old.  My dentist, who wasn’t an orthodontist, was putting spacers between my teeth to prepare them for the bands that would later be fitted around my teeth for braces.  It was an extremely painful process, made worse by the obvious indifference I was shown by the doctor.  When I started to cry, he stuck his stinking face up close to mine and told me to calm down.  His breath smelled like garlic and death.  I started to squirm while he was twisting the wires between my teeth and this pissed him off.  He gritted his teeth and growled an insult that not only made me mad but also made me want to get up out of that chair and run to my Mom.  That’s when the sobbing started.  It pissed the guy off so bad that he grabbed a towel and covered my mouth and nose until I couldn’t breath.  While he held it there he hissed at me to "Shut it up.  I’m NOT hurting you and you’re going to scare the other patients.  You hear me??"  I nodded my head and he pulled the towel off as I gasped for air.  I stayed calm for about a minute until his damn pliers (or whatever they’re called) slipped and he jammed my gums.  I cried out and started balling again and immediately the towel was being crushed over my face and nose making it impossible for me to breath again.  When I reached up to pull his hands off my face, he strapped my hands down.  I wanted to scratch is ugly, disgusting face off!!  The other assistants quietly led the other patients out of the big room we were in while the doctor continued his torture.  I didn’t dare scream out for fear of what else he might do.  It was obviously "okay" for him to treat me this way since everyone acted as though it was a normal every day thing.  I vaguely remember coming back to the waiting room with the doctor following me and he was laughing and shaking his head telling my Mom, "You’ve got quite a spry young lady here.  I’ve never had such a squeemish patient before.  You’d think I was trying to kill her or something."  He laughed then, patted my shoulder which caused me to agrily pull away and my Mom flashed me one of those, "Lisa, behave yourself!" kind of looks.  I cried all the way home but for some reason I didn’t tell her what happened.  All I remember is telling my Mom how much I hated the jerk to which she replied with the obvious reprimand for my impoliteness."

When I was finished telling the doctor what I could remember, she just sat there for a few seconds in utter shock.  She could hardly believe what I was telling her.  She sympathized with me and assured me that she’d keep it all in mind – even going so far as offering me future visits by their pediatric dentist who used to practice as a psychologist.  I can’t remember what else was said but before I left, she was able to check my tooth and everything looked fine to her.  

When I got home, I was so drained and exhausted that I took a couple ibuprophen and went to bed to sleep until it was time to pick my husband and Wesley up.  

Later that evening I called my sisters to ask them what their experience was like – if they remembered anything like that happening to them and they both said they remembered seeing the doctor smother crying kids.  My sister, Mel, told me that she had him fill a tooth without novocain once because the injection of the needle scraping her jaw bone hurt more than having the tooth drilled without novocain.  

I called my Mom, then, to ask her if she remembered us ever telling her anything about that doctor and she said she remembered us always telling her how much we hated him and how we would beg her not to make us go, but none of us ever told her why.  She said that she thought we were just being normally fearful – like a lot of people are – about going to the dentist.  She explained how she really didn’t have a choice about where we could go since their insurance wasn’t accepted anywhere else, but if she had known what was going on, she would have reported him and had him arrested for child abuse.  Neither one of us could understand why us girls never told her what happened.  

The memory of it all was almost as traumatic as when it all happened.  I cried on and off for most of that evening.  It took me several days to process those memories and the feelings they conjured up.  

It’s all just….ridiculous, right?  I mean, why in the world didn’t I or my sisters ever say exactly whathappened in that place?  Why didn’t any of the assistants ever report him?  Surely there had to be some employees in that place that would have said something, right?  Then I think of Dr. D. who, earlier (previous entry), I chided about being too passive by not wanting to deal with nervous patients.  Did he know that kind of thing happened in other practices and didn’t want to be associated with it?  Was that manner of dealing with kids a normal protocol that this particular dentist took too far?  

I don’t know but I’m very curious to find out.  

As for my phsychotic behavior, well, I’m embarrassed that it happened but I’m glad I now know the truth.  Will I go to the dentist again??  Yes.  In fact, I have a cleaning scheduled for the 8th.  Knowledge is power and now that I know – and they know – I’m not afraid or nervous about going.  They know what will happen if I disagree with their protocols.  I feel it has equipped me with the wisdom to know how to look out for my own kids, too.  That kind of thing will NEVER happen to my children without a lawsuit.  They’ve assured me that kind of thing would NEVER be accepted or allowed in their office.  Do I still hate going to the dentist?

Doesn’t everyone?

I’m happy to announce that my stress test came back good.  The cardiologist called me yesterday to say that everything looked strong and healthy.  🙂

Bad news, however, is that my triglycerides were too high.  I asked the doctor if he’ll let me try to lower it on my own with diet and exercise but given the fact that I’m unable to exercise right now – and because I’m diabetic – he wants me to get it down to around 40.  That’s practically impossible to do without medication.  For normal people it only needs to be under 100.  He put me on a very low dose statin – 20 mg broke in half and taken every other day – to see if it helps.  He’s trying to eliminate any excuse the vascular surgeon might want to use to keep from doing the Ablation surgery on my legs.  Once the surgeon is assured that I’m otherwise healthy, he shouldn’t have a problem with doing it.  

I’m not exactly looking forward to the pain of the surgery, especially post-surgery, but, I’m very much looking forward to getting this done and over with.  The sooner; the better.  

I"m sorry if I’ve worried anyone.  I hit a real low a few weeks ago and I still have stuff to deal with, but, I’m fairly certain that the worst is over.  Looking on the bright side, I can only go UP, right?

Until next time, God bless you and thank you for the prayers.