A filling day

Biscuit got a tooth filled today, and right now, you'd never know he had anything done.

We took Biscuit to his first dentist appointment a few weeks ago and found out he had a cavity.

And since then, I've been a little peeved about that. We were told by our pediatrician not to take Biscuit to the dentist until he turned 3. We were also told not to use fluoride toothpaste until he could spit. Then we get to the dentist and find out that most kids go there between 18 months and 2 years old, and as long as you use a small amount, there's nothing wrong with swallowing a little bit of toothpaste.

I don't know if we could've prevented the cavity, but still, we got conflicting information from two of the people we're supposed to trust with helping us keep our son healthy. It's just frustrating because there are such massive amounts of information out there, it's hard to make decisions sometimes.

Anyway, before I get too wound up ...

I tried to prep Biscuit for his appointment. They had said they would use laughing gas on him, so we talked about the mask he would wear. We also talked about how he would need to keep his mouth open real wide so the doctor and hygienist could use their tools to fix his tooth.

We got to his appointment, and the hygienist put the mask on him almost immediately. I had helped him practice breathing through his nose, so Biscuit knew just what to do.

The dentist came in and said hello to Biscuit. Then he got right to work. 

Remember the video a few years ago of the kid in the back seat of his parents car after he had dental work done. The kid was so spaced out that he was saying all kinds of funny things. At one point, he looked around and said in a spacey voice, "Is this going to last forever?"

Well, Biscuit didn't have any of that.

A couple of weeks ago, Jeff had some dental work done. He was pretty nervous about it, so they gave him a prescription for mild sedative. They told him to take one, and if in 30 minutes he wasn't feeling any different, take another one. 

Well, Jeff didn't even feel anything after the second one! I'm convinced that he's so laid back the drugs couldn't relax him anymore than he was already relaxed.

Biscuit must have inherited that gene.

There were a couple of times that Biscuit would raise his arms toward his face. I think he was trying to get the mask off his nose. He was holding a little race car in each hand, so even if his hands had made it to his nose, he wouldn't have been able to do anything. 

My chair was right beside Biscuit's chair, so I was in charge of keeping his arms and legs under control. I had to smile at one point (and so did the dentist) because Biscuit, who was lying flat, bent his right leg up and propped his left ankle across his right knee.

"He's just chillin', isn't he?" the dentist said.

The dentist sang to Biscuit while he worked. It sounded like he was making it up as he went along. He sang about how Biscuit is a big boy and he's a good listener and he's going to get a prize out of the toy drawer and a sticker out of the sticker drawer. I couldn't have asked for the doctor or hygienist to be nicer or more accommodating. I know they work with kids all day, but it felt like they were being especially nice to Biscuit.

After the procedure was over, the hygienist told me to hold Biscuit for a few minutes to give him a chance to regain his bearings.

As Biscuit sat in my lap, he said, "Mom, are you so, so proud of me?"

I smiled at Biscuit and hugged him close. "Yes, I am, Biscuit. I am so, so proud of you."