Is it just my kid....?

I avoided telling my son about his dental appointment until the night before. I was surprised that it didn't bother him nearly as much as I thought it would. All that worry, on my part, for nothing. I don't want him to grow up dreading the dentist so I work at keeping him positive about the whole experience. I keep waiting for him to cry hysterically or throw a fit and refuse to go...but he never does. He walks right in, listens for his name and follows the dentist right back to his room. He remembers every room he has ever been in, he remembers the 'cool' tooth mirror on the wall, and he remembers that he gets a poster when it's over.
I sat anxiously in the 'mom' chair while the dentist explained what he would have to do in order to get the cavity taken care of. I waited for the tears or even the tiniest bit of uncertainty so that I could offer comfort and assurance that all would be well. Nothing. Just a smile and an, 'o.k.' from my son. The doctor said that we would use the nitrous oxide again to keep him calm. At that point I realized that I could relax. My little guy wasn't worried. Everything would be fine. The nurse slipped the gas mask over my son's nose and then started up a pleasant conversation with me.
It only took about 3 minutes for the nitrous oxide to hit my son's system. He then transformed into a stranger. He opened his mouth and began to speak. My quiet child began to babble about anything that came to mind. 'I never get to go trick-or-treating ever and ever because my daddy said so...my fish died because Grandma got a really big fish that was too big and the big one died first and then my little one.....we are starting to get a puppy but not yet because daddy is allergic but we will get one someday because my mommy said so....why does my lip feel funny...I have about 100 animals on my bed but not really a 100 but I don't know how many but it seems like 100'. I smiled politely at the nurse and commented on the fact that he had suddenly turned into quite a chatter box.
Within a few more minutes time the chattering had turned quite animated. He was now making monster faces at himself in the mirror above his chair. He was growling and making bug eyes. His hands were flying all over the place. I was starting to get a little embarrassed and just casually asked, 'So, is that what happens to a lot of kids when they are given the gas?' I should have know better. I should have kept my mouth shut. She looked at me, laughed, and said, 'uh...no.'
I just wanted a little reassurance that I wasn't alone...that other parents experienced the kind of embarrassment I was experiencing as my son bared his soul for all to hear and turned into wild man.
We survived.