I don’t know how I feel. I don’t even know how to begin this entry. I guess I’ll just start at the beginning.
DD1 had her dental procedure this morning. We showed up for her appointment at 9:15. Checked in, and then filled out a stack of paperwork before we were shown to room 7 for the pre-op run through. My mom came along and helped keep Dh and I company, as well as watch DD2 for us. It was so nice to have her there for the support. I’m not sure how we would have juggled it all without her.
The nurses gave DD1 some oral medication that made her drowsy, loopy, and apparently amnesic. If that’s even a word. They had her dress in hospital scrubs, and they gave her a couple plush toys that a local church had made and donated to the hospital. One of the toys was a little lipstick printed toy rattle. You would have thought it was too young for DD1. But she clung to it like it was her new best friend.
DD1 also got a wrist band and a little oxygen monitor attached to her. She didn’t particularly like the wrist band and kept trying to squeeze it off her wrist. We finally bribed her with the promise of a Popsicles and she stopped worry about it.
The anesthesiologists came in and talked to us about the risk of General Anesthesia. I held my breath through the whole talk and tried desperately not to look as afraid as I felt inside. The dentist also came in to talk to us about the process.
When I asked her about the tooth colored crowns for the canine teeth, she told me she doesn’t do them.
.
.
.
.
I’ll let that sink in.
She doesn’t do them.
Remember how I canceled the LAST surgery date over this? Or how we got into the confrontation at the dentists office over this? Or the fact that the LAST dentist we saw before agreeing to the procedure assured us that this dentist WOULD have tooth colored crowns available?
Well, forget it. Because it was all a lie. No such things exist. At least not today. And not while I was sitting there with my very still, and very drugged four year old daughter laying on my lap.
After a rather short talk, the dentist assured me that she would do everything in her power not to crown that canine tooth. She insisted that if she had to crown it that she would put a tooth colored composite face on it…
And so I conceded. Feeling slightly cornered and out of options. I kissed my daughter good by and they wheeled her off for surgery.
We spent the next hour or so sitting in the waiting room. Eating Whataburger and watching Jeopardy. I am actually surprised at how quickly the time passed. I expected to be there so much longer than we were.
They called us back to recovery around noon, where we waited for them to bring DD1 back to us. She slept in my arms for a few minutes, and then drank Gatorade. Her first “meal” since 7:00 the night before. You could tell she was still groggy and a little bit loopy. She kept rubbing and pinching her nose (where they had the oxygen tube) and she moaned about her mouth. But for the most part she did soo much better than I anticipated.
The dentist came in for the post-op run-down. She explained that DD1 had 6 crowns done and 7 fillings. She seemed glad to tell me that she hadn’t needed to crown the canines.
Now this is the part where things get confusing. Because, you see, I thought she meant ALL the canines. But turns out she meant the top canines. I didn’t realize until we were home that she’d crowned that bottom canine. The one that we’ve had so many arguments over. Not only did she crown it. But she did not put a tooth-colored face on it.
So there it sits. A big steel tooth in the bottom part of her smile. When she talks I see it. Clear as daylight.
I know it seems like such a superficial thing. But I cant get over feeling betrayed by it. Betrayed, angry, sad… They did EXACTLY what I was fighting so hard not to have done. I have to sit here with my game face on and smile excitedly at my daughter. When inside I’m raging at how unfair it is. How can ANY dentist who pretends to care about young children put a steel tooth in the middle of a little girl’s smile?
I dare that same dentist to accept that as an option for HER mouth! She wouldn’t! No self respecting dentist would put steel teeth into their own smile. They wouldn’t. And yet, because my child is a child, she is marginalized in this area.
I’ve already cried about it.
Secretly.
Because I can’t let DD1 know how angry I feel inside over it.
I’ve also already called the dentist and raged at them. They keep apologizing for the “misunderstanding” and asserting that I had the choice to leave.
Right.
Like I’m going to stand up and walk out of the hospital. Carrying my drugged child out the EXIT doors? Never mind the expense of it all.
I hate it. But I guess I’m going to have to start accepting it. Right now, I’m going to write this and then put it out of my mind. I feel so guilty for allowing them to do that to her. For not stomping my feet and yelling when the dentist told me that they were not going to do what they said they would.
Shoulda coulda woulda… and all that.
Meanwhile, DD1 just discovered her silver teeth. She came running into the office. Her eyes bright and sparkly. She opened her mouth wide. Pointed out her new teeth and then threw her arms around me. Gushing with child-like enthusiasm.
“Thank you, mama. Thank you so very much. I love them.”
