Yesterday morning the phone rings at 9:15 and it's a receptionist from the RUH dentistry department. She says that the child that was supposed to have dental work done missed his plane and can't make his appointment. She wondered if Atticus could take his place. It just so happened that he was still in bed so he hadn't eaten or drank anything since the night before, Dillon could go to Mom and Dad's, and we didn't have anything scheduled for the rest of the day. How soon can we get there, she asks.
After dropping Dill off we got to the hospital at 11:00 and started the waiting process. We initially waited in the upstairs out-patient waiting room, then got moved to a room to get Atti changed and check his vitals, and then back to the same waiting room for another hour or so.
The reason he even had an appointment for the dental surgeon was because his regular dentist didn't know how he'd do in the office with getting a filling, so they make the appointment and you get put on an up to 1 year waiting list. Atticus was put on the list 2 weeks ago. We got the magic call because the receptionist called a whole bunch of kids at the top of the list and got no takers, so she decided to start at the very bottom of the list: Atticus.
So, back to changing into the cute jammies. He wanted NOTHING to do with it. I had to force him into them and then when the nurse came to take his blood pressure and pulse had to drag him out from under the chair. And then when she tried to take his height and weight I couldn't get him on the scale.
Could. Not. Get. Him. On.
After a quick trip to the bathroom for a firm talking to he slumped onto the scale, but wouldn't stand up straight to get his height.
On his chart it likely says he's 2 1/2 feet tall. And she never did get his blood pressure.
I believe that sly little grin is because he's attempting to take his jammies off. It didn't happen.
I'd brought toys and books to pass the time, but he wasn't very happy to be there and kept asking when we could 'get out of here'. In the first waiting room the window over-looked the gift shop. I told him to look down and pick out something he'd like (he was wondering where the prize table was like at his other dentist - the whole reason he actually quite likes the dentist). He saw a foil balloon with balloons on it that he felt was a good reward for waiting and having his teeth fixed.
We then headed down to the waiting room just outside of the operating rooms. One of his favorite cartoons was on, Toopy and Binoo, so he relaxed while the various people involved in his procedure came and talked to me. The dental surgeon was a really nice grandmotherly lady that told me that fillings 'aren't done here' and composite fillings (the first one he had) are a bad choice for kids (they wear out too quickly and have to be replaced). Apparently they 'do caps'. She said with the back molars that they keep from 9-12 years it's just too important to keep them in place so the new adult teeth elsewhere come in properly. Since Atticus already has a crowded mouth (already?!) it's vital for him not to lose those back ones.
So she CAPPED EVERYTHING.
I can't believe how much silver he has in his mouth (she didn't touch what the last dentist did, so his lower left side doesn't look like a kitchen appliance). If I'd have known this was going to happen I'm not sure if I'd have gone through with it, plus it was A LOT more traumatic than the regular dentist (for him, anyways). On the other hand, if it's better for him then I shouldn't be concerned with the esthetics of it...ahh, but I still am.
He went in at about 1:15 and she said she'd be about an hour. They told him he'd get to wear a space mask so he let the nurse pick him up and carry him on in without me. He blew me a kiss and thought nothing of leaving me. After they put him under they'd put an IV in his hand and a breathing tube in his nose - he'd never know either happened (except he somehow knew he got a 'big poke' in his hand).
The dentist came and talked to me around 2:30 and said the recovery room would call me in 5 or 10 minutes to see him. After more than an hour I finally got a hold of them and found my way to my sleeping (very deeply) baby.
He'd woken up very briefly before I got there, and once again when I got there, but he fell back into a heavy snoring-filled sleep until we went upstairs.
He looked so small and vulnerable, but so brave at the same time. I don't know how parents do it that have to send their babies off for procedure after procedure for various illnesses. How heart-breaking.
Upstairs in out-patient recovery. He'd have slept all day/evening if I'd have let him. Before he went with the nurse she told him that after the 'teeth fixing' he could have a popsicle. That's how I got him to wake up, just kept whispering 'popsicle' in his ear.
He's showing me where he got a 'big poke and blood'. Not sure if he'd already woken up when they took the IV out, but he obviously knew something happened there. And he was pretty thrilled with his popsicle. Can't you tell?
He was too hot. He finished his juice, but was too tired to finish his popsicle without taking breaks from holding it.
Problem solved.
They said he might have a sore throat from the tube down it, but he never complained about it.
I managed to get him dressed, but he immediately fell asleep again. In the end I just carried him out and Dad met us to drive us home.
We went to Mom and Dad's for supper (he stayed on the couch). He would tell me his heart hurt, but when I asked where his heart was he'd point to his stomach. He also would tell me his feelings hurt, and when asked where those were he pointed to his stomach again. Although, when Dillon jumped on his feet he started sobbing that Dillon had hurt his feelings. I'm thinking he meant he feels hurt not has hurt feelings, but it sounded so cute.
He did throw up his popsicle, much to his dismay ('but I want my popsicle'), but other than that he was ok. At least now he doesn't have to set foot in the dentist's door until his check-up next year. The dental surgeon warned me that Atti has an 'interesting bite' (hmmmm, Daddy?) and would need a lot of orthodontic work in the future. Guess we better start saving.
Oh, and when we went down to the 'prize table' it was closed. I felt so bad that I'd told him he could have the balloon when he was done being brave and then I couldn't get it for him (although today I made up for it by taking him to pick out a foil balloon with balloons on it somewhere else - he was just as happy).
