The Story of My Wisdom Teeth Extraction

I'm sitting on the couch with the new laptop I got from work plugged into my router with a long-ass CAT5 cable because I don't have a wireless access point yet, and it is nice. I am alive.

I'd had two oral surgeries in the past: one to have seven teeth extracted, and one to attach a brace to a very impacted canine. They were both a very long time ago, and I didn't really remember the process too well. A quick rundown:

I walked into the room, sat down, and got a few monitors attached to my body. As soon as they started, I could hear my heart racing, so I actively tried to slow it down. I managed it, and that made me feel a little bit better. Then one of the nurses put the mask across my nose to supply nitrous oxide. I breathed deeply, but didn't feel too much for several minutes. Eventually, I started to feel a little hazy, and it was a major struggle to just move my limbs.

At that point, another nurse came in and asked if I was "floaty." I was going to explain what I felt, but all that came out of my mouth was "Maybe." She offered to up the gas a bit, and I didn't know what to say. She most certainly increased it, however, because the room started to spin and I realized that I wouldn't be able to pick up my arm no matter how hard I tried. Dr. Smartz came in within a few minutes after that.

I was instructed to make a fist with my left hand, and I felt the vein collapse in my forearm as she tried to start the IV. She removed the tourniquet and placed it lower on my arm, quickly finding a vein in my hand. I felt the sting of the IV, and within minutes I remembered no more.

Except I kinda did. I thought I heard things going on, and within what felt like minutes I was told to try to sit up. I said some things that I can't recall (nothing too embarassing, though) and was led to the recovery room, where I lay down and started crying (a side-effect of the anesthesia wearing off, I'm told). Mom came in and I said "I was awake through the whole thing," which she found (and finds) very funny. I cried some more (also from relief) and got hiccups, and was very, very cold. Nothing really hurt, though.

After a few minutes, I sat up and walked out (with a lot of assistance from Mom). I felt nauseous all the way home, and it continued once I sat down here. I wanted to take a pain pill, but couldn't get enough pudding down to make it possible. Instead, I took an anti-inflammatory (flurbiprofen) and slept for 45(?) minutes. Now I'm awake, my stomach feels better, and I've taken my first Vicodin. I don't really feel high or anything, just a little drowsy and sore in the mouth. I've drooled blood a bit, but the feeling is coming back, which means I don't have nerve damage (which was one of my biggest fears).

Though the worst is likely to come (as the anesthesia wears off more), I feel like the whole experience was a lot more bearable than I expected it would be. Maybe I hyped it up in my mind so much that it would really have had to be a worst-case scenario to live up (or down) to expectations. That's how it should be.

June 12, 2003 - 02:39 PM