Trapped!....by fear

What can I say about my Oliver other than Ollie is Ollie.  I've affectionately used many different terms to describe my Oliver in previous blogs, but until you have spent a great deal of time with him, you just wouldn't understand.  But I will try to share just a little glimpse into his world. 

Oliver has always been a nervous and anxious little guy, even as a baby.  I believed, however, that with time, and with some coping skills, he would learn to overcome his anxiety.  But as Oliver passed through his infancy stages, quickly ran through his toddler days, and is now knocking on the door of kindergarten, it seems as though his anxiety level has increased while his tolerance has decreased.  Certainly not the turn out I would like for him.  None the less, it is the role of a parent to consistently respond with patience, nurturing, love, kindness with just the right dose of discipline. 

In a "normal" world, we all deal with some varying amounts of anxiety, fears, discomforts, and distractions.  But we learn to work through them and move on to the next phase.  We live in a world where our clothes have zippers and buttons and tags.  But not Oliver's clothes.  If I come across pants or shorts that are loose fitting with an elastic waistband, I buy 10 of them.  Sometimes we wear clothes that make us itch, but we manage to get through the day while making a mental note that perhaps more fabric softener would be helpful the next time.  If someone inadvertently brushes up against our arm or shoulder while passing, we don't feel pain.  Sometimes we don't even notice.  If we enter a loud room, we may cringe a bit or become irritated but we don't respond with covering our ears and shutting down.  The sound of the vacuum cleaner does not cause us discomfort.  Annoyance....perhaps.  If the sun is bright, wearing a pair of sunglasses is obvious, but not painful.  Wearing snow pants to play in the snow is logical.  Inconvenient when you need to go potty, but it does not prevent us from playing in the snow.  All of these fears and discomforts afflict Oliver daily.  They are not mere obstacles to be worked around, but they are true issues that paralyze Ollie.  Oliver lives in a world trapped by sensory issues, anxiety, and fears. 
 
Oliver was a year old when his first teeth came in.  It was during that same week that he began walking.  I was excited to witness these fun milestones with him.  His teeth were beautiful and spaced so nicely apart.  I was very diligent with caring for his pretty baby teeth as every parent knows that caring for baby teeth is crucial in having healthy adult teeth.  I started taking him to the dentist when he was 2 1/2.  I should have taken him sooner, but prior to 2 1/2 he was my foster son and had to use a dentist that accepted Medicaid.  In our area at the time, there was only 1 dentist that accepted Medicaid and well, let's just say, I went there once with one of my other foster children and vowed NEVER to return.  So, I continued to diligently care for Ollie's teeth on my own.  When his molars began to come through the surface, they were fine, except for one.  One of them emerged with a brown discoloration.  My dentist checked out the tooth and declared that it was ok and may have occurred due to a fever or the numerous amounts of antibiotics that he received as a baby.  Yes, when he was a baby and before he came to our home, Ollie was literally sick all the time with chronic ear infections.  He would get off of an antibiotic on day 10, and by day 12 had another ear infection and was back on another antibiotic.  But, none the less, I knew that I had to be careful with that tooth as it would be more susceptible to decay. 

Oliver has visited the dentist every six months after his adoption and always tolerated the exam and teeth cleaning.  However, he NEVER would allow x-rays.  But with each dentist visit, his tolerance became less and less.  This past April, he refused to wear the sunglasses when the hygienist wanted to use the bright light while cleaning his teeth.  That was ok because Oliver decided he would rather close his eyes.  Then when she was ready to clean his teeth, Oliver cooperated as long as he was able to dictate which tooth she cleaned each time.  She indulged him, but I am pretty sure that was the most disorganized and sporadic way she ever cleaned somebody's teeth.  There was no rhyme or reason to his pattern.  A tooth here, and tooth there.  I had to turn my head and giggle.  Sometimes that's all you can do.  During this visit, the dentist still maintained that this one brown tooth was decay free but instructed me to continue to watch it and clean it diligently.  In the back of my mind, I KNEW that future dental appointments were going to be increasingly difficult, maybe even impossible. 

Then over a weekend about a month ago Oliver started complaining that his mouth hurt.  It wasn't causing him to stop eating and didn't interrupt his sleep, but it was definitely causing him some discomfort.  So Monday morning, I called the dentist and they were able to work us in that day.  Although Oliver was excited to go to the dentist and have his tooth "fixed", he couldn't get through the exam.  He tried.  He opened his mouth and even let the dentist poke around a little bit.  But Oliver wouldn't allow the water sprayer or the sucky thing.  Please ignore my terms for these, but you all know to what I am referring.  Two things became obvious during this visit:  Oliver had a cavity in that weaker tooth and he was NOT going to cooperate for any method of fixing it.  He wouldn't allow x-rays, putting a mask on his face to administer gas was not an option, and certainly Novocaine wasn't going to happen.  So, the only alternative was to send Ollie to a dentist that "specializes in these sensitive cases."  Although I was not surprised, I was disheartened because I knew what that meant. 

So, that same week, we were able to be seen by the specialist.  Once again, Oliver allowed the dentist to look in his mouth and ALMOST touch his tooth, but that was the extent of the visit.  Oh sure, they tried to get x-rays.  Oliver went further with this than he had ever gone before.  (I knew that his tooth was hurting bad enough to try to cooperate with the x-rays).  He actually sat in the chair.  But as soon as the hygienist put that heavy vest on his chest, he freaked out.  I don't mean just freaked out, but I mean he went crazy with fear and anxiety.  Screaming, kicking off his shoes, and shaking.  So in an effort to not traumatize him further, we quickly took the vest off and I proceeded to pick him up and hold him all while he continued to shake.  My heart hurt for him because I truly began to see to what extent his fears and sensory issues hold him back. 

After this event, the dentist recommended that Oliver's next and only solution would be to have his dental work and x-rays done under anesthesia and in a hospital.  But due to the large waiting list, Oliver's appointment was scheduled for August 21.  Over the last couple of weeks, Oliver would come to me and say he was ready to go to a dentist.  I was relieved, until Oliver put restrictions on his request.  He asked if I would "find a new dentist, one that wouldn't touch him or take pictures of his mouth."  He began crying when he ate because the tooth was becoming increasingly painful.  I would pray each day hoping for another solution because pacifying him with Motrin until August 21 didn't seem like the best option.  Then I received a call this week and there was a cancellation for today.  So as I am sitting here writing this blog, Beau and Ollie are in the car heading to the hospital.  Poor Ollie is so excited to be having an outing with daddy, but he has no idea, YET, where they are headed.  I lovingly packed Ollie's favorite Spider-Man blanket and stuffed elephant and that is about all the preparation I could offer.  You see, you don't tell someone living with anxiety and fear ahead of time something like you are going to be put to sleep, a needle will be stuck into your vein, there will be a mask on your face, and they are going to take pictures of your teeth, use a drill, put on a crown and do a tiny root canal.  Of course, with a child NOT dealing with sensory and anxiety problems, you wouldn't need to tell them ALL of that either.  But just mentioning he would be going to the dentist again would be too much information for him ahead of time.  As much as I would like to be there with Ollie this morning to hold him and hug him, Beau is the better parent for this situation.  Oliver has a tendency to control himself better when Beau is around.  I have a softer spot and tend to baby him in times like these.  So, I will sit here and pray for an uneventful surgery, quick recovery, and no traumatization.  I will also pray for Beau to be patient and strong.