Some of you might be aware that a week ago I had wisdom teeth surgery. Yes, exactly one week. And it was not a pretty week, I'm telling you. And for those of you, my lovely readers, not familiar with the extraction of these pesky teeth, and what happens, allow me to shed a little light on the subject.
Wisdom teeth are basically teeth that grow in when you reach the supposed age of wisdom- eighteen. Yeah, I don't think that's the age of wisdom either, but that's what the introductory video says. These teeth grow in the back, beside your latest molars. That is, if they grow in at all. Often, they become impacted, because of how they are turned, and are unable to grow in. Which isn't good. So in wisdom tooth surgery they cut into your mouth, and remove the teeth. Ouch!
And I had a special case. Not only were my wisdom teeth going to be impacted when they grew in, but one of my twelve year molars never grew in because of one of them. It seemed that the edge of the molar was hooked to the wisdom tooth, which prevented it coming in. We had a long, drawn out near two years where we would go to the dentist, and the orthodontist, and they would tell us time and time again that we needed to have the wisdom tooth removed. But the thing was, oral surgeon we went to, who had removed all four of my siblings wisdom teeth, took a look at my x-rays and decided he couldn't decide if my wisdom tooth and molar were fused or not. *Gulp.* He said he'd have to take out both teeth. My mom was NOT pleased with this, so we didn't do it. Finally, we arranged to have another appointment with a different hospital. They said that the two were separate, so we finally set our appointment.
That morning, I was a little worried (all those stories I read about kids dying...) but I prayed, and trusted my Lord and Savior to take care of me. We sat in the waiting room for almost an hour... maybe even longer until they finally called us back. We were taken to a little room where I had to wait a while longer. A guy came in to do my IV. I only had an IV when I was little so I wasn't sure how it was going to be. He had this long needle, and a plastic straw thing to stick up my arm. Fun! I held my mom's hand (WHAT, it's allowed!) while he stuck it right in the crease of my arm. He had to wiggle the thing around for a little bit to be able to get it in because I was dehydrated (not allowed to eat since the day before.) It wasn't exactly a comfortable experience. He left, and I had to wait again. I couldn't even bend my arm much now. A woman came in, took the IV bag down, and led me to another room. The awful torture chamber. Okay, just the surgery room. And I had to wait some more. *Taps fingers*
The lady came back and prepped me for surgery- hooked me up to all kinds of beeping machines, and put all kinds of monitors on my heart etc. I waited a little more, (there was an awful lot of waiting involved) and the doctor's came in. They put a mask over my nose which was blowing oxygen in my nose, and told me they would tell me when the drugs started coming in. (For the record, they never did tell me. If I hadn't tasted it I wouldn't have ever known.) Then he just started a random conversation with me about schools, and some teenagers who'd gotten drunk. Yeah, weird conversation, right? o.O It was during this conversation that I started tasting this sickening sweet taste which I guessed was the medicine. Pretty soon my arms began to feel weird and like they were tingling and just... strange.
Then, something happened. I'm not exactly clear on what, but I had the distinct impression that something went wrong, so I started praying. The nurse sounded worried, and they started checking all my monitors, and talking to each other, and that was the last thing I knew... I was asleep.
I woke up in the same chair I went to sleep in. I felt a bit out of it, but I was aware of what was happening. The doctor told the nurse to get my mom. Mom came in and talked a bit, listened to instructions, then they told her to get the car pulled up. The nurse fetched a wheelchair, and helped me in it. Then she wheeled through the hospital, to the elevators and down into the parking garage. They helped me get into the car and get my seatbelt on.
One of the first things I said, I think, was about how I didn't like the gauze in my mouth, or something of that nature. Mom helped me switch out and it was all nasty and bloody. Mom had to go to Sam's club to pick up my subscription, and on the way we changed the gauze yet again. By the time we got there I needed to use the restroom. We put in the subscription, then headed to the bathroom. Mom told me to wait til there weren't people around so I wouldn't freak them out with my blood before I rinsed my mouth out. ;P She also told me to stop staring at the floor because people were starting to stare at me weird. Haha! I got rid of the gauze, and mom bought me an ice cream. It took me a bit to get my mouth open, but when I did, and just let the ice cream sit there it felt so good!
We got the subscription, and went home, I slept in the car.
That day I didn't have much pain. Half my face was numb, and most people sleep the whole day, but I didn't. I had maybe one fifteen minute nap when I got home. I stayed in bed, but I watched shows or something to pass the time. Mom would give me Popsicles and stuff now and again.
It wasn't until the next day until the pain came. I swelled up really badly. Some advice: do not apply heat to your face unless you want to swell up. No matter who tells you to. ;) I also would get pretty nauseous if I sat up too long. Once I got so sick I thought I was going to puke, but I didn't, and it calmed down after some prayer. Thank the Lord.
So, now a week later, the swelling has almost completely disappeared, and the stitches are loosening, but I still have a bit of pain. It's all coming along though.
I thank the Lord for keeping me safe in the procedure and all that's come after it. Thursday I'll be blogging at Randomosity Writers about writing from experience- thank you wisdom teeth! See you later!
~ a rambling author
Every person longs for a purpose. No matter who they are, no matter what they do, they long for something... more. Some may scoff at this thought, but it is the honest truth. That feeling of something missing in your life, that longing for something else, that is you wishing for a purpose.
