When I walked in to have my wisdom teeth extra-kated, as my dad pronounced it at dinner the night before, I could tell it was going to be a good week, and it was only Monday.
I asked the dental assistant if I could just fill half the prescription, she quietly chuckled to herself before saying, “Oh hunnie, you are definitely going to need all 15 of these vicodin, all 4 of your teeth require deep bone extractions.”
DEEP BONE EXTRACTIONS?! Well, at least she pronounced the word “extraction” correctly. But, DEEP BONE EXTRACTIONS? Don’t you think we should give the teeth some time to become, I don’t know, less deep? I felt like saying, “So, this surgery would probably be a lot easier in a couple months, hey?” But, I figured the appropriate time to bring up that issue was not while they were sticking the IV into my arm.
Well, I’m happy to report that I’ve survived. It was the first time I had ever gone under, and I’ve always had this fear that if I go under, I will never again scratch the surface. But here I am, alive and kicking.
My equation for success looked like this (Katy, I hope this helps):
-straws (they can pull the clots out!)
+jello (I recommend the new jello fusions: both tropical and melon are delightful)
+gargling with salt water
-spitting, also can pull out the clots, you more so just have to let the water fall out of your mouth, rather than spit it out
+ice pack helmets: hood up, ice packs in, drawstrings pulled tight
+an excellent movie lineup, mine for example was: Nanny Diaries, V for Vendetta, Highschool Musical, License to Wed, Hot Fuzz, and Pans Labyrinth
+a little academic reading: Research Methods for Community Change: a Project-Based Approach
The professor that I work for wrote this, and it’s required reading for his class that I’m taking this spring semester.
+a little nostalgia-inducing reading: Gaviotas: A Village to Reinvent the World
So, I never lived in this Colombian village, but…extremely interesting nonetheless
+laughing in this really awesome way that requires my mouth to be completely wide open, so as not to bite my swollen cheeks
-talking (I had to talk less, which was difficult)
I guess for deep bone extractions it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I can’t wait until I don’t have chipmunky cheeks and I can once again eat mozzarella sticks at lightning speeds (I had to cut each stick into about 9 pieces, and then chew with my front 4 teeth tonight at dinner) Always classy, I am I am!