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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.
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.
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From:
owieowieowieowieowie!!
Doc: "You need your wisdom teeth removed."
Me: "Why?"
Doc: "Because they're impacted, and can cause all sorts of problems."
Me: "Such as?"
Doc: "Pain, cavities on your back molars, infection. Pain, mostly."
Me: "Haven't had any pain."
Doc: "Doesn't matter. You still need them removed."
Me: "Whatever. See you in six months."
This has happened about six times to this point, and I still haven't had any problems with my wisdom teeth. Anything they have to give you THAT much medication for shouldn't be an elective surgery, which is really what it is for me right now.
Two words: Milk. Shake. You use a straw, you bypass all of the KDOT-inspired sections of your mouth (even the bacterium with the little "Stop" sign on your incisors). Otherwise, make the most of it. Use the grewsome sight of your Frankenstein-esque gums to freak out co-workers. At least get some glee out of it.
And let me know if you need anything.
From:
Re: owieowieowieowieowie!!
And I will say out of all the dental procedures I've ever had, the one that gave me the most trouble was definitely the wisdom teeth. Gauze for days. More blood than a slasher flick. The "I've been ballpeen-hammered in the jawbone" feeling for a week and change. The jaw-flesh-pulp. No, no going back for that.
That said, can't wait to get the stitches out. Which is probably why I'm up at (groan) 3 am. Kill me.