Monday, October 1, 2012
What Not To Feed a Drunk 4-Year Old
I had to take Jackson to get a cavity filled last week. During his previous visit to the Dentist (in which he cried so loud I think people in the lobby actually left) it was determined that there was no possible way this procedure was going to take place without drugs. They would need to use a light anesthesia, which of course would jack my bill up another $500 thank you very much.
Now I know quite a few of you are thinking "why in the world would she spend that much money on baby teeth?" and believe me, I asked myself this question many times. I even had him go to another dentist for a second opinion. In the end, the procedure seemed like the right thing to do.
This wouldn't be Jackson's first time with anesthesia, he had tubes placed in his ears a few years back. But this would most certainly be a more unique experience. With the tubes, I handed Jackson over to the nurses and got him back in pretty much the same shape he left in. With the dentist, another story entirely! After drinking the jungle juice that was meant to place him in a "conscious sedation" the dentist asked me to take Jackson out into the lobby and wait about 10 minutes until it had taken affect with instructions to "keep a close eye on him, you'll start noticing he'll get a little wobbly."
A little wobbly?? How about completely and totally off of his ass! Literally two minutes into playing a game in the lobby he starts swaying back and forth, slurring words, and behaving like a pledge on initiation night. By the time the dentist came to get him I was holding him in my lap while he made goo-goo noises at the cute 3-year old he'd just scared to death.
After the procedure was complete I walked into the room to find him flat on his back watching a movie on a television screen on the ceiling. I believe he may have said, "hi mommy, look what I am watching" but the slurring was still in full effect so for all I know it could have been, "thanks a lot you stupid bitch." The dentist filled me in on how wonderful everything went and then started explaining what I could expect over the next hour as the sedative wore off. WHAT??? I could not believe they were actually about to send me home with Jackson still in fraternity land.
Once I had him safely in his car seat he managed to make out the word "McDonalds," which of course I had promised him prior to the appointment since he couldn't eat that morning. No way was I taking this child inside, people would think I'd given him a strawberry margarita for breakfast, so I grabbed a sausage McMuffin at the drive through and pulled over. Where I stayed, for a while...
Sandwich in hand, Jackson begins pulling it apart piece by piece and examining each item with the eyes of a newborn. "What a fancy sandwich," he says. He only dropped said sandwich pieces about 15 times, spilled his orange juice about 10 times, and thanked me for his breakfast about 20 times. Oh well, at least he's a polite drunk!