Big, fat lip

The familiar feeling of dread, apprehension and worry weighed on my shoulders as I drove my 4 year old with high functioning autism (HFA) to the dentist.  This was his second visit.  Since his first time at the dentist was a rather pleasant one (by design), he was focused on receiving his reward from the toy vending machine at the end of his appointment.  Feeling like a bit of a liar, I cheerfully talked with him about the dentist on the brief drive.  I knew he was getting a filling and I had no idea what to expect.  Since he had done so well with his very brief cleaning, the pediatric dentist who specializes in working with children with special needs felt my son would be able to handle this relatively quick procedure without any sedative or calming agent.  I was a bit skeptical, although I was willing to try this since our dentist had done wonders with our oldest son.

The appointment went better in some ways than I anticipated but there was a brief period when he was drilling the tooth that my son tried to jump off the chair and it took the dentist and his assistant to keep him seated in order for him to finish.  I tried to remain in the chair designated for parents and was amused when I realized that my chair wouldn't scoot forward.  Perhaps they didn't want me right up there in the middle of it.  They probably should have tied me to the seat because I couldn't help but lean over and pat his legs, feeling helpless watching him struggle while guilty for making him go through this procedure.

Before long, thankfully, it was over.  Sigh.  Dora's song, "We did it!" ran through my head but I resisted the urge to do a little dance.  Of course, here is the unexpected moment that I really should learn to anticipate.  As we were leaving and I was talking with the dentist, he pointed out that I needed to make sure that he didn't bite his lip which would be numb for about another hour.  At that moment, I looked at Dylan and he was already examining his lip with a confused expression.  "My lip feels funny."  We explained that it was asleep but it would wake up soon.  I told him to leave it alone but I became concerned since one of my son's "issues" is that he becomes agitated when things are not what he deems to be "right." 

I turned to talk with the receptionist then walked with him to the door.  As we opened the door, I glanced at him and saw that his lip was bleeding.  Upon closer examination, I could see that within that brief moment he had taken a nice hunk out of his lip.  Blah!  Turning around and directing my son back into the place he was very interested in leaving, I showed the dentist his lip.  Since this was not unexpected for him, he was not as freaked out as I was and he explained that it would swell and look like a canker sore but would be fine.  He suggested that I find something else for him to chew on until his feeling came back.  Great idea but I had no idea what I could give him until I remembered that we had what I refer to his chew toy in my bag.  Whew!

After feeling the relief of the procedure over, I had a renewed sense of concern as I drove home because I knew it was likely my son would continue to bite his lip despite having his chew toy.  Glancing back at him as often as I felt safe to do so, I monitored him and repeated my instructions, "Chew toy in your mouth."  "Put it back in your mouth."  "Don't bite your lip."

Returning home, I was thankful that my mother-in-law was there to help me keep an eye on him as we juggled my other two children.  Eventually, the feeling returned and amazingly he didn't seem troubled by his now very swollen and nasty looking lip.

It seems like there is no end to the many lessons to be learned as a parent, particularly of a child with special needs.  At moments like this, I feel that I too get a bit of a big, fat lip as I stumble into yet another challenge to muscle through.