The overzealous dentist strikes again

I'm always amazed how much of my face is controlled by the nerves in my gums. I've had three shots of novocaine today; my left eyebrow is numb. Basically, I look like a stroke patient.

Anyway, I went in today to get a cavity on my upper left molar filled, and this time Dr. T. felt no need to deviate from the plan of attack. She shot me up with novocaine, let it soak in for AH second, and then started drilling. I don't know if it was my contorted facial expression or my scream that clued her in to the fact that, yes, I could feel that. She's lucky I didn't bite her fingers off.

So she gave me another shot of novocaine, waited approximately two seconds for it to kick in, and went back to her joyful drilling. I could still feel it, and evidently she was paying more attention this time, because she asked, "Can you still feel that, Erin? I'm going to have to knock you out with a two-by-four," and then she made a "psh" noise to indicate the piece of wood hitting me upside the head. I stopped grimacing. She went back to drilling.

Eventually the novocaine actually started working, and I stopped bowing my back in the chair every time she put the drill in my mouth. The rest of the filling went smoothly, although I wasn't pleased when she put the metal shaping brace in my mouth and tried to sever my gum with it. And I don't know why, but she always uses enough filling substance that I'm spitting out silver chunks two days later.

She managed to drill and fill in about 25 minutes, meaning she had 35 minutes left before her next appointment. We were sitting there, waiting for the silver to set, when she looks at me and goes, "You have a small cavity on the upper right side. I think we'll just go ahead and take care of that one today. Let me give you some more anesthetic."

So she shoots me up again and starts drilling. Before you ask, yes, I could feel it, yes, I was grimacing, and no, I didn't ask for another shot. The novocaine eventually kicked in, about halfway through the drilling. And she was using the big drill, too, the one that makes your head bounce on the chair. I was sort of skeptcal about her claim that it was a "small" cavity. She managed to fill that one in less than 10 minutes, at which point I was getting nervous that she was going to start looking around for something else to be wrong.

Thankfully, though, she just tested the height of the fillings and then booted me out of her chair. However, she didn't escort me to the door before she asked this exact question: "I may have asked you this before, but has anyone ever told you you look like Monica Lewinsky?"

Me: "Uh, no."
She: "Really? Hunh."

I didn't respond because I was spitting silver chunks into a tiny, tiny sink, but seriously, can you think of anything more horrible to hear while your mouth is full of metal and your face is numb?

Me neither.