Poor Little A had her root canal in early January and it was HORRIBLE. I didn't take any photos of the actual procedure, because I ended up on the floor beside the chair, holding her little hand as the endodontist drove this Looong drill bit up into Little A's trembling head. The photos here are from before and after the procedure.
A's thinking, "Those are some vicious looking drill bits!"
I had the choice of having A go to a Pediatric dentist, who performs root canals only occasionally and doesn't have all the high tech magnifying equipment or special tools -- or -- I could have her go to an endodontist who does root canals every day, has all the special equipment and advanced training, but doesn't routinely work with children.
I chose the endodontist with a skilled hand. We'd seen her 2 years ago when A fell on her face after flying over the handlebars of her scooter and knocked one of her teeth crooked in the socket. That tooth was still in the process of growing in, and although the tooth survived, it stopped growing so is shorter than it should be. This injury was similar, however this time the impact was more severe and the tooth turned gray and died, necessitating a root canal. Poor little A had been in so much pain for the past month, that the promise of having the nerve stripped out of the tooth so that it would no longer hurt sounded wonderful to her.
So, the big day. A hopped into the chair and was hooked up to the Nitrous Oxide, and I encouraged her to breathe deeply and go to sleep if she could. That's what I did last month when I was in the chair at my dentist having two cracked molars ground down to tiny nubs so I could get two crowns. I had them crank up the Nitrous and I took off into outer space without a care. I thought A would have the same experience. Sadly, that wasn't the case at all. The doctor asked A how she was feeling and if her hands were numb, or she felt dizzy. A nodded "yes," so the doctor decided to TURN DOWN the nitrous to practically nothing. Unfortunately, I didn't catch this. Numb and Dizzy are GOOD! That was mistake #1.
Next, the doctor started explaining and showing A everything that she was going to do, as in, "I'm just going to take this (visual: LARGE) syringe filled with Novocaine and shoot this (visual: LARGE) needle into your gums to numb the area." On our previous visits A had been very curious, full of questions, and had told the endodontist that she wanted to be a doctor when she grew up. The endodontist must have remembered this and thought she could put A at ease by explaining everything, but it became too much information and made poor little A nearly hysterical with terror. So, mistake #2, too much information.
Then came the struggle to get the adult size rubber dam over her face, with the clamp around the tooth not holding. It kept popping off, cutting her gums, and making little A feel claustrophobic. Before the procedure I'd extolled the virtues of the rubber dam, how she wouldn't have to worry about accidentally swallowing anything, how bad tastes wouldn't get through, etc. A knew it was coming and was perfectly fine with it initially, but the combination of # 1 not enough sedative + #2 too much information + #3 the dam not staying in place, that was more than she could take.
The tears came on quickly, her little body trembling with fear. I played the brave mama role, assuring her everything would be fine, she just needed to breathe deep and try to sleep (I hadn't realized the nitrous was too low to have any effect). The endodontist became overly concerned and with each attempt to get started would pause and ask A if she was OK, which then seemed to increase A's anxiety. It was a full hour before the drill was even turned on, and the rubber dam had to be reapplied half a dozen times. During this hour I was so conflicted. One moment I'd force myself to sit back in my chair and not hover, bite my lip and return to the mending I'd brought to occupy the time. The next moment I'd find myself clawing at the arm of the chair, fighting the urge to pick up my daughter and walk out of the office and take her to the pediatric dentist instead.
Finally, I took my position on the floor beside the chair and held A's hand as the endodontist began drilling. Once the endodontist got to work, it was clear she knew exactly what she was doing, and was doing it with precision. Unfortunately, A was not sedated, and the endodontist stopped many times in response to A's whimpering. In retrospect, I wish I'd asked the doctor to crank up the nitrous and knock her out. Or better yet, have her on an IV drip sedation. I had no interest in watching a root canal, but there I was inches from my child's face, watching the tears cascade down her cheeks as she endured it. The long drill bit was pulled out and there it was, a giant bore-hole in my daughter's head! The endodontist looked through her giant magnifying scope (not pictured here) and took a tweezer thing and pulled out something, held it up to show A, and announced, "Would you like to see your nerve?" A's hands flew up and she shook them vigorously "NO!" while I turned away and tried to keep from throwing up. TOO MUCH INFORMATION!
After 2 hours in the chair, much of it spent trembling, A had to go to the bathroom. Badly. But she wasn't done. So A was disconnected from the (useless) nitrous nose and I helped her to the bathroom, standing behind her with my arms under her armpits, guiding her out into the hall. She still had the rubber dam on her face obstructing most of her vision, but as we entered the bathroom I quickly blocked her from the mirror, so she wouldn't see herself. Had she seen herself with the dam on, and her bloody gums, she would have fainted right then and there. I got her on and off the toilet and back into the chair where the endodontist quickly finished up. Other patients were waiting and we were an hour behind schedule, at least, however I never felt like the doctor was rushing. On the contrary, I felt she was taking too much time trying to reassure A, and I just wanted to get it all over with!
Finally, it was over. When I saw the xray I knew that despite the agony poor A went through, the work was done perfectly. I once dated a dentist (many moons ago), and I'll never forget him telling me that when he did root canals, he was essentially "drilling blind," and that sometimes the root didn't go where you thought it should go and the drill bit would exit the side of the root instead of reaching the end in a nice straight line. Sometimes the tooth would shatter and crack. I'll never forget his admissions, and that's why I sought out a specialist for A.
That night the tooth fairy came, bringing A 3 American Girl books she'd been wanting. Eventually the mutilated gums healed, the pain subsided, and life went on. In a month's time she'll be at the Orthodontist and they may start moving that tooth back into position (it was knocked backwards quite a bit, so her retainer no longer fits).
A was so brave. I felt like such a failure as a mother when A told me later that after the doctor asked if the nitrous made her numb and turned it down, she then didn't feel any nitrous at all. That she was wide awake and frightened during the whole procedure. Please forgive me, my dear child.
Your daughter is adorable. I'm a redhead too so I'm hoping I can pass the gene on when I have kids someday. Good job being a good mamma and sticking through it with her. I'm in my twenties and I'm still terrified of going to the dentist. It's especially scary going to someone new for the first time. I wish my mom lived closer to come with me to the dental clinic for my root canal consultation. I'm sure just having you there was comforting enough even if the nitrous didn't work like it should have.
Kat Brennan | http://fortmcmurraysmiles.com/our-office/
Posted by: Kat Brennan | Monday, September 23, 2013 at 08:05 AM