**Dear goddess, here she goes again with another dentist post. Does this woman ever do anything beside take her kid to the dentist? What the hell is up with her kid’s teeth, anyway?**
My thoughts exactly.
Because I have been on yet another weeks-long hiatus, and because some of you have been sweet and considerate enough to send messages asking me Where the fuck are you?!?!?, I will give you good people a very, very abridged update on the events of my so-called life. It’s been awesome around here lately, folks. Just awesome.
Thursday morning. At work. Celly rings. School nurse reports Ryan is in her office complaining of a toothache. He had finished a course of antibiotics the dentist prescribed at the end of March because that painintheass tooth that we’ve been trying to save for over a year was infected. Can you say shit?? Because I did. Several times.
Procure emergency appointment with the dentist for 4:30 that afternoon. Have I mentioned I don’t get done work until 5?? School nurse calls again. Ryan is back, still complaining. I tell her we have an appointment later that day and he just has to hang at school because there’s nothing I can do about it until 4:30. Yes, I AM Mother of the Year.
Dentist determines that painintheass tooth is infected again (still?) and needs to come out. Amazingly awesome dental assistant named Latifa (for reals) distracts Ryan with video games so Dr. Teddy Bear and I can discuss the best way to do this. We determine lots and lots of sedatives and lack of consciousness at a surgical center are the way to go. (In case you missed my 97 previous dental-related posts, Ryan’s dentist is a big, giant teddy bear. Over the past year, we’ve come to know each other quite well, and the more I am around this man, the more I adore him. Watch out, Vince.)
I heart this man. But I do not own the copyright to this picture. He does.
Dr. Teddy Bear is out-of-network for Ryan’s dental insurance. I don’t give a shit, my son is NOT seeing the butchers the insurance wants us to see. The butchers even went so far as to tell Ryan’s dad on the phone that they are not equipped to handle children with special needs, but they refused to put anything in writing, so that 2-week fight with the insurance company involving Dr. Teddy Bear’s staff, Ryan’s Dev Ped, and Ryan’s dad was a huge, flaming exercise in futility. Meaning I’m taking a huge hit in the checking account.
Because Ryan is having general anesthesia, he needs presurgical clearance from his regular pediatrician. The more I have to deal with those idiots, the more I realize the extreme depths of their idiocy. The only appointment they can give me (to fill out a stupid form that I could fill out myself, but I need a doc to sign off on it) is in their satellite office at the other end of the county on the afternoon of our Board of Directors meeting at work. There. Is. No. Way I can do this. Luckily, I managed to get Ryan’s dad to take an afternoon off to take Ryan to this appointment. I gave him explicit instructions NOT to leave the peds office without original copies of all the paperwork, because I know how these things go. And it’s a damn good thing, too, because the dentist’s office called me the next day and said when the peds faxed the forms they missed a page. Shocking, I know.
Of course, our fax line at work was down that day. So after work I had to run to pick up Ryan, then run to the UPS Store to fax the missing paperwork. At $1.50 a page.
The nurse from the surgical center calls me on Friday before the big day to get a medical history. After answering all of the questions that were already answered on the form the pediatrician filled out, I report to her that Ryan takes Adderal and Tenex every morning. She tells me it’s ok to give him his meds the morning of the procedure with a sip of water.
I get to thinking about this over the weekend, and it just doesn’t sit well with me. It’s ok to give my son an upper (Adderal) and then give him a bunch of downers when we arrive for the extraction? I determine to ask about this on Monday when they call me with the appointment time.
Scheduler from the surgical center calls on Monday to tell me we need to be there at 12:30 PM Tuesday afternoon. 12:30?!?! The kid can’t eat or drink before the procedure! This is not good. Gah. I ask about the meds, so she transfers me to the very same nurse I spoke with a few days earlier.
I explain my concerns. The nurse seems confused. I then school the nurse on the fact that Adderal is a stimulant drug for ADHD. She agrees that it’s probably best not to give him the Adderal. Idiot.
I use vacation time the day of the procedure. Ryan wakes up with a fever. I’m all like Oh HELLS no, we are having this shit done TODAY. I give him his Tenex and a dose of Tylenol. Again, Mother of the Year, people. I know.
Ryan’s anxiety is starting to build, but is still manageable. My anxiety is starting to build because he’s all fever-y and I am filled with dread at the thought that I have to go into work and tell my boss I need to take another day off because they couldn’t do the procedure. I’m watching him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t eat anything and trying to decide if it’s worth the risk to take a shower.
Surgical center calls at 9:40 AM. Forget about 12:30, they want us to come in as soon as possible. I tell them we live two counties away and it will take at least an hour to get there. They say fine, no problem. I’m praying this gives us enough time for the Tylenol to work. At least my shower dilemma is solved. I gulp down my coffee, throw some clothes on my stinky self, and head out the door.
Wage traffic war with old men with handicapped tags and maniacs who don’t care if we die on our way to dental surgery.
Pre-op nurse calls us in, and the first thing she does is take Ryan’s temperature, which is 99.8. She asks if he’s had a cough or a cold lately. I say No, everything’s been fine! She takes it again. This time it’s 100.2. She makes frowny faces that make me very nervous but tells us to come back to the pre-op area and have a seat. I ask her what this all means. She says it’s up to the anesthesiologist, but he probably will nix this whole thing. She leaves to go find him, and Ryan is anxiously whispering in my ear Why did we come here?!? I’m FINE with my sick tooth!! I can still eat!! I want to go home!!!
At this point I’m ready to stab myself with whatever surgical instruments I can get my hands on.
Anesthesiologist comes in and whispers complaints about something to the nurse for about three minutes before he even acknowledges my presence. Finally gets around to asking me all the same questions the pediatrician and I have already answered at least three times. He’s doing a lot of writing. He doesn’t mention the fever, so I start to relax just a little. My mother calls my celly. I ignore her. Nurse puts an ID bracelet on Ryan and a red allergy alert bracelet that says “Bactram.” I say Excuse me. He’s not allergic to Bactram, he’s allergic to Biaxin. She replaces allergy alert bracelet. Anesthesiologist asks me if Ryan had anything to eat or drink today. I tell him he had his Tenex with a sip of water this morning. I don’t mention the Tylenol. Anesthesiologist looks confused and says Tenex? I pull the prescription bottle out of my purse to show him, and he says Hmph, this one didn’t make it on the list. He writes some more. Then he says What about his Xanax? Now I’m confused. I say Xanax?? He doesn’t take Xanax. Anesthesiologist crosses something out. Apparently idiot nurse who doesn’t know what Adderall is also doesn’t know the difference between Tenex and Xanax. I think to myself What the hell kind of ham and egg operation is this?? If anyone needs Xanax here, it’s me, people. Me.
Anesthesiologist gives the go-ahead, and I’m all like Thank you, jeebus!! It takes two nurses and me to coax Ryan into taking his ”giggle juice” so that they can wheel him away from me without histrionics.
Ryan wakes up in recovery shaking. As soon as he can gather his senses, he asks for a mirror so he can see the hole in his mouth. And the blood. He then proceeds to sob and generally pitch a fit because this is the WORST day of his life and how DARE I put him through this?!?! (That’s verbatim, people.) He was FINE with his sick tooth!!! Never mind the fact that Dr. Teddy Bear told me the whole thing oozed pus as soon as he put pressure on it. Blech. Here. Take a gander at this lovely thing yourself.
I hope the Tooth Fairy isn’t too disappointed when she sees what’s actually inside that pretty little blue box.
Ryan proceeds to barrage me for an hour with drama and complaints about what a lousy mother I am for taking him to get his tooth pulled.
And I really, really need a shower.
So, there’s your update, folks. And because no one has the time to read a War and Peace-length post, I will spare you the details of the bullshit that is going on with school, work, my own health, the Flyers, and Celebrity Apprentice. All of which has been happening AT THE SAME TIME as this latest dental drama. So, yeah. I’ve been a teensy bit self-absorbed lately. I don’t handle stress real well.
But seriously, thanks for asking. Thank you. I bet now you’re sorry you did.
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