The week after school was out, Harper had a filling done at our dentist. For the week or so afterward, she complained that it hurt. Being the incredible mom that I am, I told her it was normal for it to be a little sensitive and to basically suck it up. After more than a week of her complaints, I finally looked in her mouth and to my horror, she had a large abscess. In fairness, she didn't complain all that often and never seemed to run a fever or actually cry. Last week, our dentist lanced the abscess and put her on antibiotics. It hurt. She did not enjoy it at all. Our dentist does not do extractions but he referred her to an oral surgeon to have 2 teeth that were infected pulled. She was livid. Full blown furious. She thought the lancing and antibiotics should be the end of it.
We argued a little bit about it, and then dropped the subject until today, when she had her appointment with the oral surgeon. Let's just say that our Harper suffers from a little anxiety. She basically always has anxiety and is a worrier. Today it was a full blown panic attack. I took her early and we bought camp supplies for her and Quincy for 4-H camp. Something she has been very much looking forward to. It did not help. I took her out for lunch. Not even a little bit of change in her anxiety level. Then we arrived at the office. Over the top anxiety. Tears. Shaking fear. I told her that it was not going to be as bad as last week, and that she would not be in pain. I am a dirty liar apparently. The dentist looked to me for help. Uhhhhh no. Out of my area of expertise. He finally said "I could slip her a little Valium in a cup of sprite and then use some nitrous?" YES! YES PLEASE! I realize that pulling a couple of baby teeth should not require powerful drugs, but in this case it seemed like the best option. Within 10 minutes of drinking her "sprite" she was a different kid! Completely happy and relaxed. Worth it!
The only problem with this plan was that I did not have any soft foods (or any foods at all really) so we stopped at Dillion's on the way home. She was high as a kite. She kept punching herself in the face and saying "wow I am all fat" and then she tripped in front of the lunchmeat, fell on the floor and yelled out "ohmygod there's blood on my tongue." Old ladies were glaring from every corner. I was very happy to get her home!
She was coherent enough to ask to stop at sonic happy hour. Somehow she knew today was the introduction day for the pickle slush which she not only ordered, but said she loved! I don't know for sure if it was still the medications talking? You would think I would have learned my lesson with Cameron a few months back. I am a slow learner!
She must be ok because she was supposed to come home and rest. That plan was not in her idea of how to spend an afternoon. She is currently outside watching daddy and the boys chop some trees. Sitting in the back of the truck is resting right?
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