Wednesday I had some minor surgery teeth yanked out of my jaw, 4 wisdom, 1 molar to match the last molar removed. This time I made the appointmet with a real dentist and it made all the difference.
The dentist made it clear she wouldn’t pull the 5 teeth without me being under conscious sedation. For a multitude of reasons, I would’ve preferred not to have done it. Not the least of which being that I couldn’t nurse Ben for 2 days since they were giving me Valium the night before and Halcion the day of. Of course, there was also the worry that I’d have a reaction or, more worrysome, say something completely embarassing that I wouldn’t even remember. I nearly cancelled more than a few times.
Luckily, on Tuesday I had the bright idea to talk to a lactation consultant. Two, in fact. They both said, since Ben was older and therefore more able to metabolize the medication, there was no real need to pump and dump since the medication was not for prolonged use. They both said, to be safe, I could P&D immediately after the surgery but he should be fine otherwise. I’d just have a sleepy baby on my hands. I didn’t, by the way, have a sleepy baby at all during that period. I’m very glad I didn’t avoid nursing him for those two days.
I took all 3 pills as described before getting into the office. I was a little loopy but no where near sedated. The first hour and a half in the doctor’s office consisted of me being given 4 more doses of the meds, continuous turning up of the nitrous and the doctor popping in to ask how I was doing. The response? “Well, she’s still lucid.”
About the 4th time the doctor came in, she finally gave me “the talk”. Since I wasn’t becoming sedated, maybe they should wait. She must’ve seen the horrified look on my face because she ended with, “Well, unless you feel okay with us trying to go ahead with it.” Yes, yes, go ahead! I wanted it over with.
I felt the first few shots and lucid enough to remember the first 3 teeth being pulled. As time went on, I was getting drowsier and drowsier. I remember, after pulling the first tooth, she said, “There! It’s out!”
“Really?”
“Yup. Are you okay?”
“Okay? I’m wonderful! I didn’t even feel that!”
Apparently, I talk like a 1950’s commercial when I’m sedated.
All went well. I don’t remember much of it. I don’t remember walking into the house, don’t remember getting in the car, don’t even remember pumping afterwards, although Eric said I did it by myself. I’m swollen and sore but I no longer have the pain in my ear which alone makes it all worth it.
If there’s one very important thing I’ve learned from this, it’s to teach Ben to take very good care of his teeth. Especially if he remains allergic to dairy like his grandfather and I. Well, that and that I can pump without even being remotely lucid. That has to be some kind of bankable talent.
