It's Out!

Remember November first?  All that rambling?  One of the items was the dental consult for MLB.  Well, today was THE day to get that tooth pulled. All things considered, it went excellently well.

Last night I prepared for the visit by reminding the boy that he was going to be checked out of school at about 11 for the rest of the day.  When I got home, I reminded the Toothfairy that tomorrow was a big day for MLB-- he was finally losing another tooth, but not in the typical fashion, so could she perhaps leave him four half-dollar coins instead of two and also write him a letter?  My own reward to MLB for this discomfort was to buy the "Cranky Levels" for the iPad "Where's My Water?" game.

The appointment was about noon at the dentist's Madison office, so I left in plenty of time to get the boy at school and drive out there.  (20 miles from my house to the school, 20 miles from the school to the office.)  And then, I figured I had enough time for a quick trip to Wal-Mart first.  There's no such thing as a quick trip to Wal-Mart, even for a pack of gum.  But we still had a good window of time.  Except that it took him almost 10 minutes to sort out his desk, collect his belongings and have his teacher write a sticky-note of his homework assignments.  [sigh]  "Mom, do I have everything?" Backpack? Check.  Lunch bag (with uneaten lunch)? Check.  Computer, in bag, with assignment sticky? Check.  Jacket? Check.  Kid? Roger on that.

He was amazingly accepting of my decree that he would not get his iPad with the new levels until after the procedure.  My rationale was not that he needed to have "good behavior;" come on, he'll feel what he feels.  I know this kid; he'd be so locked-in to the new game, he'd have a difficult time bringing his focus to any instructions.  He understood.

It's that canine just to left of his large incisor.
Obviously, there's nothing just to the right,
since that is where the cleft was.

We drove to Madison, while he played on his "sister's" iPad.  He got quieter & quieter.  I wondered if he'd fallen asleep.  We arrived at the office "a l'heure," and the boy stretched out across some chairs and asked me to wake him when his tooth was out. (Um, I think you'll have to wake up and walk back to the treatment area first.)  Poor kid.  He seemed a bit apprehensive.  Don't blame him; I was, too, but I was keeping it to myself.

I insisted on trying to take a picture of the targeted "victim;" not sure if it lightened his mood or just irritated him.  Got some goofy pics, though.

Light's so bright,
he's gotta wear shades.

He got settled on the "surfboard" treatment "chair" (total cool, total comfort, total access.)  We caught the tail-end of a "Madagascar" movie; there was some debate whether it was the first or the sequel.  The "what flavor nose do you want" question threw him for a loop. Lemme 'splain: the application of "laughing gas" is done with a single-use nose-mask that is impregnated with a scent-- he could choose between grape (purple), chocolate (tan), bubblegum (pink) or orange (duh.)  He didn't seem too keen on the idea.  Being a big fan of sedation dentistry myself, I suggested a "no-flavor nose," since the gas itself is odorless. No luck on no-flavor; we all conceded bubblegum would be the mildest scent.  We told him he might feel tingly or goofy, but it was all OK.  My two-cents' worth: "You'll still feel some stuff, but you won't care."  (Big, big fan here.)

We watched the credits, then the movie started up again (sequel on loop.) We waited our turn.  The boy zoned out.  I messed with him by poking my finger at his arm; yep, still ticklish, but he couldn't discern what I used to tickle him.  I tested his acuity by holding up my thumb & pinky finger and asked him how many fingers I was holding up; he messed with me and said 17.  (My answer was going to be 1 and a thumb, but then he went all binary-counting on me.  Fuzzy but still sharp.)  Then it was time for the topical; the assistant left it on for a good while before Dr. Beitel sat down to give the shot.  I couldn't watch that-- it's the part I personally dread the most.  MLB was good and relaxed and took the injections as calmly as he does his vaccinations; just one tiny "ow" at the outset, then an occasional tensing as the volume got tight in his gum.  Dr. Beitel explained that he administered the anesthetic in increments by numbing a small area and then moving the syringe to the numb edge of the area for the next dose.

Tooth? What tooth?
The one she's drying off behind you.

MLB was fuzzy, relaxed and numb.  Dr. Beitel got out the pulling tool and explained that there would be a firm tug in the mouth that would feel no stronger than someone tugging at MLB's arm.

With that, as Dr. Beitel tugged on his arm, he tugged on his tooth and it was out.

Thirty minutes prep to make an easy one minute of work. Wow.

MLB was not phased; he was watching the movie.

Yes, Dr. B knows his job.  Yet... Mommy was a wee bit sideswiped and mildly queasy by how simple of a force it seemed to take to separate a tooth from its seemingly firm lodging.  (Good thing the recycler tubes on the gas were not 100% effective; mommy needed her own "calming breaths.")

Root and all.
Pretty neat.

They unhooked the nose and let the boy return to normal.  He got his tooth in a little box, the nose and a small toy as a reward.  He chose a glider for himself and a dome-popper (in her fav pink) for his sister.  This boy was a fine as frog hair.  He did GREAT!  Thus turned loose, it was Cranky Gator all the way home.  Just before we got home, he commented that he couldn't wait to see the two half-dollars he was going to get. I couldn't help it; I played dumb to exasperate him.  "From where?"  "I'll give you an hint-- they will be under my pillow."  "Under your pillow??  Half-dollars??  I thought only quarters came out of ears!?!"  "Maaahhhmmm! It's from the Toothfairy."


Tangentially related, DLG was fascinated with the nose and its smell.  And with her brother's glider, which had to be protected from her.

Before he went to bed, he wrote his own letter to the Toothfairy.

"The tooth is in the yellow box. I got a shot in my mouth to get it out.  Sincerely, MLB."

I've got to admit.

I've got a good kid.