Let's face the facts, thousands of people have their teeth extracted, have root canals to fix root decay(doesn't sound too fun), or in my case, remove wisdom teeth that are happily attacking my molars.
I don't even know why they are called wisdom teeth. Nor do I know why there had to be so many(four) in a person. A few luckier ones only have maybe three or, if they're waaaay luckier, just a couple or even none. I, sadly, appeared to have paid for being so darn 'smart'. It's a huge joke amongst people, apparently. But not matter.
I have four wisdom teeth. Well, had four. Still have a miserable couple of them stuck in my right side of the jaw, including the impacted one. I know people are pretty used to having their teeth removed, but let's just say I'm a pathetic person when it comes to this. I was intending to undergo GA, but when the doc quoted the price I realized that sometimes I guess I have to toughen up. And toughen up I did. Almost. Ugh. Well, maybe not so much.
I'm a squeamish person. I tense up and shake while a dentist is just performing routine cleaning and polishing. So you can imagine how it was like when the specialist doc injected my upper and bottom left gums with local anesthesia. Okay, bottom line is, I already began to shake. Goodness, I haven't shaken like that since... since I was preparing to compete in the 800m singles athletic event at high school. Or while waiting to be called by the examiner for my ABRSM piano exam.
So you can imagine the tension that was already wrecking my body, and at the beginning everything went smoothly. He drilled into my bottom tooth(he had to break it into pieces before removing them one by one-- thank you Ajay, for letting me know earlier! I would have freaked out if I didn't know) and the nurse was patting my shoulder and I managed to get myself to relax for a bit. Thank God for my iPod; however, the plugs fell out when he started on my upper gum. Oh, freak out, freak out FREAK OUT won't you, Esther?
Psh. 'course I did.
The nurse had to hold me down while the doctor carefully completed his job. Apparently the upper gum was the trickier one with the tooth wedged deep inside(thanks so much, tooth. Thank you.) and he himself became stressed out when I got stressed out. Talk about irony. Dude, c'mon. I got stressed out because you started doing a whole bunch of stuff-- twisting and turning my head, opening and closing my mouth, drilling and drilling and drilling, pulling and pushing, ugh, gosh, I don't want to know. How am I not supposed to get nervous? I just wanted the whole thing to be done with, and it doesn't help when you keep talking to me WITHOUT my music to calm me.
So, you may ask, what do I mean when I say "freak out"? Well, let's just say aside from the shaking and tensing, I begin to cry after he was done. I was panicked and terrified beyond words, and -this might be extreme, but I'M SQUEAMISH OKAY- traumatized a little. The specialist then decided to stop there, and told me he'd remove my last tooth another time due to my incessant terror. I greeted this with a mix of relief and regret. Part of me was glad because I'd at least have one side of my jaw sore-free and able to support food while the other healed. The other part was mad because it meant having to come back and go through the entire procedure again, with the same recovery period. Sigh.
There was nothing that could be done. The surgeon didn't dare proceed with my last tooth, and looking back, I'm not sure what made me cry. I was pretty mad at myself when I came out, thinking myself a baby and an idiot for creating a drama. The nurse, as well as AJ, were terribly supportive, and I comforted myself with the fact that even when I come back for the final procedure, it would be quick and less invasive seeing it's already impacted.
At least, I thought, the worst is over. The major part of removing the un-impacted teeth was over. My mouth felt terribly odd though, with the sense of un-felt pain masked only by the anesthesia. Somehow I knew that it was hurting, and it was only a matter of time before the drug wore off and I became as sore and wounded animal. I was not looking forward to the rest of the day.
*sob*
It wasn't the doctor's fault though. He did a pretty good job, and gave me decent drugs to stop the pain and prevent infection. So far, it's been a day since the surgery, and aside from the usual swelling of my gum tissue(completely normal in the healing process, they say) I have had a comfortable day. I even managed to brush my teeth this morning and tonight, though I could get very far into my left jaw. I hope I don't develop any cavities from slurping the soft pudding and the porridge which is all I can consume for now. AJ has been the biggest sweetheart; bringing me to and from the doctor's clinic, staying with me all day yesterday right after the surgery, diluting my medications in water so I could drink it instead of struggling to swallow the pills, and going out all the way to Parade to get me my favorite Boost Juice drink. I had nothing but cold, soft, mushy food that night since the instructions forbid me to have even soup.
AJ is the darling I don't deserve. Let's just say it wasn't easy to deal with a bad-tempered, crummy, sour-faced, touchy and icy girl who does nothing but sulk on the bed and refuse to take even her painkillers because she thought they wouldn't help(It ain't my fault okay? It hurt! And the last time I had supposed 'pain medications' for my braced teeth, they did NOT work. Fail.). But he was patient enough to dilute them in a cup, and make me drink it, and went up and down from my room whenever I needed something: ice pack, water, smoothie, spoon, etc. And he did it all without complaint. Honestly, I don't know whether I deserve such patience when being a complete spoilt jerk. But I'm so thankful that I have him around me when I'm in the suckiest of moods.
I'm sorry, sweetheart, for acting like an idiot that day. Thank you for showing up today, in the morning, bearing again my favorite smoothie! I need everything I need to keep my belly as full as possible, even if I have to drink liquids liquids and more liquids.
AJ stayed with me all day. Thanks to the painkillers, I had a relatively good day, aside from the fact my swollen cheek hurts and is sensitive, and I can't open my mouth much aside from to slurp some porridge or pudding or something and to drink water. Also, when night descended, I regained my ability to talk! Albeit a bit muffled, but who cares. Laughing is still a problem though. But now I can poke AJ and he daren't retaliate due to my fragile state. Ahah. Something wonderfully advantageous at last.
I'm hoping and praying for my mouth to heal fast. I have a check-up after ten days, in which I hope before that the gum tissue has healed and I can at least consume solid food again.
So, moral of the story? If you're as squeamish as I am, go under general anesthesia to spare yourself the panic and trauma. Though GA also has some side effects, and cost quite a pretty penny. I'm glad I managed to spare my parents the cost of a GA operation, though I'm ashamed of myself for creating a scene on the operating chair.
Yes, that is a real x-ray. Of my teeth. Yahoo.
There's my wonderful wisdom teeth on the left, in full attack. And the bottom right one which has impacted in some horrible horizontal direction. Seriously, I thought I'd gone through the worse with braces; I was wrong.
I'm just crossing my fingers over the healing process and the final removal. After that, I'm praying that I never need another darn dentist appointment again, aside from just cleaning and polishing!
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