My mouf feelf all funny

[sigma7]

Warning: review of the surgery follows. Not for the squeamish.

To quote Xander, "On a scale from one to ten? It sucked."

Didn't go as smoothly as I'd hoped. First off, if you have a problem with the novocaine, don't tell the nurse, tell the doctor, lest the message not get carried to him. Oh, got that straightened out pretty quickly, but it could've been much worse.

Secondly, I'm never ever going fishing again. There's something about having stitches put into your gums that gives you a lot of empathy for the large-mouthed bass.

Thirdly, while the right half of my head ended up getting all numbed up after about nine shots, it does nothing to stop the feeling of someone reaching into your head and pushing the flesh around forcefully, like he's very incrementally beating you up from the inside. And nothing to stop the sounds, either. Squish squish. Or the smell. The smell of bone being vaporized is roughly like that of feathers burning. Not pleasant. Especially when it's your bone. I like my bones.

Also, for the second time in as many weeks, I spent a lot of time bleeding. The doc's gloves looked...um, very red. I guess it's understandable that the first thing I did on my way out was walk into a wall.

Oh! The pain meds I was promised? Boring. Ketoprofen. Yawn. I was really hoping for something entertaining. What's more, they're about gone, and they've been necessary. In typical medical understatement, "some pain and swelling may continue" equals "you will feel like you were hit in the face by God." This is not a job for ketoprofen. This is a job for meds which take away your ability to feel pain, walk, speak and grasp objects. (And I'd still fit in at work.)

Had to force myself to have a bowl of cereal. Have been avoiding food when possible. Tummy got me up at 8 this morning (not good considering I got to bed at 5) demanding foodage. Want sleep. Want now. Birds mad, want Daddy. Later. Sleep first.

Comments

[sigma7.livejournal.com]

Specifically it's euphemistically called "crown lengthening." It's like when you get liposuctioned and still have a lot of skin that needs getting rid of, once the gums have swelled and can't recede, they cut 'em and yank 'em down (forcefully, I may add) and stitch 'em back into place.

And most of my previous work's been done while I was out like a light, but this was a different doc. And y'right, "out" is totally the way to go. I guess we'll find out -- I've got a few more of these to go. Whee.

And my tummy hurts 'gain. Mrrr.

[aota.livejournal.com]

OW! I hope I never have to do that.

When they were asking me how I wanted my wisdom teeth removed, I said knock me out. I only woke up once, to see the doctor standing over me with a hammer, he had to break the teeth into smaller bits.

[sigma7.livejournal.com]

Now, my sedation trips were full sedation, as in Bee drives me there early in the morning, I take a pill an hour beforehand, and by the time I get there I'm a little loopy, and the next thing I know it's either late that night or the next day. Usually I don't remember anything, but I do remember bits and pieces of wisdom-teeth day, particularly getting lugged into the ER 'cause I wouldn't stop bleeding. But that was definitely the worst.

About the only other thing I remember is the day I was fed chocolate pudding and I horfed into the backseat on the way home.

If there's anything as good as not feeling pain, it's not remembering it.

[kateshort.livejournal.com]

I can sympathize with you there... When Joel had three of his done at once, I drove him. And on the way home, he puked. Which is really spectacular, since you don't usually see people puking blood. Luckily, he had a bag and I was able to pull my car over without getting into an accident. Unluckily, it was in a right-turn-only lane in front of the police station. The cop tapping on my window about scared me to death, but he then guided me around the corner to park in the police parking lot while Joel's stomach finished emptying out.

(This was before we were married, and the only time he ended up staying the night at my apartment, but it was summer and I had a week off from temping, so I could totally take care of him better than his dad could. Words of advice from that experience-- baby food. Lots and lots of baby food.)