It seems we have a natural proclivity toward making comparisons with one another. Why we think we can measure what someone else has gone through with the same standards we use for ourselves is a mystery. Each one of us is different.
This concept has become abundantly clear during my recent unpleasantness with the dreaded root canal. It does not take me long to realize that in a conversation involving dental procedures, there are many interpretations for what-is-not-a-big-deal all the way to what-is-the-worst-pain-ever. And I tend to find my tales of woe heading for the worst pain ever category far more than others.
So I did some research and found out that there is scientific proof for my sensitivity to dental pain! It is because the mutation that provided me with red hair is the gift that keeps on giving and with it comes a different way of caring for my teeth.
Knowing what I know now about how a redhead requires more pain killers to mute the obvious pain of dental work explains a lot about how terrible my experiences at the dentist were when I was a child. I remember being given more than one shot to numb the pain which seemed to annoy the dentist who was already impatient that I was most likely crying. Not that emotional little redheaded girl with all of the cavities again, he may have thought. But yes, there I was, scared to death, knowing I had eaten too much candy and awaiting the pain that came along with it.
As my gums started to recede, exposing nerves that could not be touched with sharp, pokey sticks used by dentists, nitrous oxide became the answer to my problems. It allowed my chalk-like teeth to be filled and filled, and I would be warned again that coffee would stain them and I would smile and nod knowing good and well that I would never be giving it up. I had been warned as a teenager that because of my open bite, braces were recommended (I only have two teeth that actually come together for chewing) or else by the time I was 40 I would be eating my dinner through a straw. This of course never happened.
The day came when nitrous was not enough. It was as though I had become immune to its effects and it was too dangerous to give me more. So I was sent to a dentist who used pill sedation as his method of pain relief for those of us who needed it. This worked quite well at first. I would take one pill at home and the second one at the dentist office about an hour later. I would go into some kind of "twilight" zone and reemerge with cleaned, fixed teeth. After doing this about twice, I woke up in the middle of the procedure while the dentist desperately tried to administer more pain medication. Alas, I had become immune to it as well.
All that remained was IV sedation which consists of being strapped into a chair that becomes more of a bed with all of the seriousness of surgery. This dentist assured me that as long as I did not start shooting up street drugs like heroin, I would not develop an immunity. So far he has been correct.
Developing an infection in my crowned tooth as one root lay dying (incidentally, one of the teeth that I use for chewing) became an emergency situation as it needed immediate attention to relieve what I believe to be perhaps the worst pain I have ever been in, or at least second, after a breast infection that . . . I will spare the details. I knew that I would be able to endure as whatever it is in the IV started flowing through my bloodstream giving me a warm feeling that increased until the room began to spin and I would take another journey to a place where there is no tooth pain. I would then be escorted from the dentist's chair, helped into a vehicle and awaken in my bed hours later having no idea how I ever got there. I then would get into these conversations with people who do not require more than a simple shot for their dental needs and wonder if they think I am being overly needy, too dramatic, or something other than normal when I admit that my procedure is far more involved and way more costly.
But what can I do about it? I have red hair.
This concept has become abundantly clear during my recent unpleasantness with the dreaded root canal. It does not take me long to realize that in a conversation involving dental procedures, there are many interpretations for what-is-not-a-big-deal all the way to what-is-the-worst-pain-ever. And I tend to find my tales of woe heading for the worst pain ever category far more than others.
So I did some research and found out that there is scientific proof for my sensitivity to dental pain! It is because the mutation that provided me with red hair is the gift that keeps on giving and with it comes a different way of caring for my teeth.
Knowing what I know now about how a redhead requires more pain killers to mute the obvious pain of dental work explains a lot about how terrible my experiences at the dentist were when I was a child. I remember being given more than one shot to numb the pain which seemed to annoy the dentist who was already impatient that I was most likely crying. Not that emotional little redheaded girl with all of the cavities again, he may have thought. But yes, there I was, scared to death, knowing I had eaten too much candy and awaiting the pain that came along with it.
As my gums started to recede, exposing nerves that could not be touched with sharp, pokey sticks used by dentists, nitrous oxide became the answer to my problems. It allowed my chalk-like teeth to be filled and filled, and I would be warned again that coffee would stain them and I would smile and nod knowing good and well that I would never be giving it up. I had been warned as a teenager that because of my open bite, braces were recommended (I only have two teeth that actually come together for chewing) or else by the time I was 40 I would be eating my dinner through a straw. This of course never happened.
The day came when nitrous was not enough. It was as though I had become immune to its effects and it was too dangerous to give me more. So I was sent to a dentist who used pill sedation as his method of pain relief for those of us who needed it. This worked quite well at first. I would take one pill at home and the second one at the dentist office about an hour later. I would go into some kind of "twilight" zone and reemerge with cleaned, fixed teeth. After doing this about twice, I woke up in the middle of the procedure while the dentist desperately tried to administer more pain medication. Alas, I had become immune to it as well.
All that remained was IV sedation which consists of being strapped into a chair that becomes more of a bed with all of the seriousness of surgery. This dentist assured me that as long as I did not start shooting up street drugs like heroin, I would not develop an immunity. So far he has been correct.
Developing an infection in my crowned tooth as one root lay dying (incidentally, one of the teeth that I use for chewing) became an emergency situation as it needed immediate attention to relieve what I believe to be perhaps the worst pain I have ever been in, or at least second, after a breast infection that . . . I will spare the details. I knew that I would be able to endure as whatever it is in the IV started flowing through my bloodstream giving me a warm feeling that increased until the room began to spin and I would take another journey to a place where there is no tooth pain. I would then be escorted from the dentist's chair, helped into a vehicle and awaken in my bed hours later having no idea how I ever got there. I then would get into these conversations with people who do not require more than a simple shot for their dental needs and wonder if they think I am being overly needy, too dramatic, or something other than normal when I admit that my procedure is far more involved and way more costly.
But what can I do about it? I have red hair.
I had no idea that sensitivity to pain was an added bonus of being a red head. Really interesting post.
ReplyDeleteI am just glad that someone finally figured it out. I knew I was not making this up--it really hurts!
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