I took my 2-year-old niece to get some dental work today. She had a chipped tooth which was adorable but needed to be repaired before it would become a real problem. After a lot of research and anguish my sister and I decided on dentist #4 who would give her Versed because she is frightened of strangers and she’s so head strong she wouldn’t even let the dentist look in her mouth or take X-rays with her mom present and holding her.
After giving her the Versed, it was cute watching her start to smile and giggle at everything, but quickly it became a little somber and scary when she would spontaneously shout and wail very briefly after 3 minutes and her body would go limp. She seemed so unhappy that she couldn’t control her body, and she had insufficient vocabulary to describe how she felt.
Her mom held her for a long time. She eventually reached out to me for comfort as she lost all control of her body, I imagine hoping to feel safe or that I could make it all better. I held her in my arms with her head on my shoulder. I had to support her head with my hand because she was totally limp. Her little breath I could hear in my left ear became so light, and I focused all my attention on it. I whispered to her that everything would be okay and I would see her soon. I kept repeating it. I practiced that phrase with her a lot so I know she understands. I had been working with her for months in every way imaginable to get her ready for this moment, for her to be as comfortable with the dentist as possible. Finally, I had to hand her over to the nurse to be taken out of the room.
Sitting in the waiting room, waiting for her to come back, was not as hard as I thought it would be. It was a relief that all the preparations and decisions I had to make were finally over, and I felt I had given her the best opportunity I possibly could. I even gave the dentist a list of common phrases that we use with her that would be familiar, like “Open wide like Mr. Dinosaur.” (We brush a toy dinosaur’s teeth together.) And advice that afterward we would “go to “Mee-Maw’s for ice cream and a popsicle.”
Ultimately she was only gone from our arms for maybe 25 minutes before they handed her back. Everything was a success and very minimal. The dentist we chose was good and fast, took X-rays, and completed the work in record time. The nurses described that she only cried a little like she was doing with us, and was not distraught.
Afterward, I carefully drove her home and we laid her on the couch and watched her breath closely as she slept like a rock for 3 hour. We tested her sedation level every 15 minutes as instructed. She was sound asleep but responsive to mild stimulation. I played Bomberman (SNES) with my Nephew while keeping an eye on her. When she finally woke up, she was hungry and in a very good mood, and very talkative. That was a relief.
Quite remarkably, after waking, her verbal fluency had increased considerably. She was enunciating better and speaking in multiple complete sentences. She was already smart but today she was even smarter. It was like suddenly she was a year older. I wonder how long that will last or if it was just while the medicine was in her system. But it was beautiful to finally meet her and hear her express herself with so much more clarity and less frustration. She has since she was a baby expressed frustration that sometimes we can’t understand the words she is saying. For a day, that frustration was all gone. I had been so worried about her, but instead of something bad happening, it was like a gift. She did not express any pain and only wanted to play tag as well as hide and seek as soon as she could stand. At this moment of writing I am very grateful that everything went well.