I've been avoiding this for severalllll years. I was 15 when they last told me "dang girl, these beasts need to go" and ever since then I've been complaining about them. Well, finally, I decided, "HEY! What better time to get these suckers pulled than in between jobs, on my semester off, when I'm going to be essentially snowed in anyway!"
That and I had a cavity in one of upper wisdom teeth. (maybe? I've never had one before and just assumed that "shooting pain" and "dark spot" equals DECAYYYYYYYYY ugh. Never again.)
That AND they were dislodging my beautiful lower fronts. (My parents paid TOO much for the braces to have that work undone!)
That aaaaand because I was in pain for the past few weeks since they were trying to grow in very limited space and caused headaches, mouth sores, swelling, YADA YADA. They all. Had. To go.
Anyway, it was a bit of a scary day for me since I'm sort of, um, TERRIFIED of being put to sleep for surgery. This was my first time under general anesthesia and I was convinced things would go wrong and when I woke up, there'd be doctors gathered around me like "SHE'S AWAKE! IT'S A MIRACLE! You've been brain dead for six years but we made a Go-Fund-Me! Yeah Donald Trump is president AGAIN! And your sister graduated college and all your dogs died! NURSE! Get some reporters in here, this is gonna be a great face-book inspiration video!"
Really didn't want that to happen. Right away, the doctor, with his thrilling bedside manner said, "I see you took the 'no make-up' part of the pre-surgery instructions seriously! A lot of girls don't, but you're a good girl!" *guffaws*
Mmm. Thanks. Flattered.
The nurses were nice, but I felt sort of like a small pathetic infant as they kept saying "oh gooood girl! that's a good girl!" after everything they did. The IV that put me to sleep was one of the weirder things I've experienced.... I felt like I was laying there awake for ages while the doctor said, "Feeling sleepy?" "yes.." "Feeling sleepier?" "yess" "Feeling any more sleepy??" "YES" and then BAM I woke up with a vague memory of a doctor pulling all my teeth out, but lo and behold the nurse was there saying "ALLL DONE! GOOD GIRL!" (tripppyy)
And then I harassed said nurse until she fished my teeth out of the garbage for me to take home. The doctor came in and said, "ummmm..." at the sight of me holding my teeth in my palm, and I don't know WHY I said this, but the best excuse I could come up with is "some peeepo make jewllllwy ow uh feef." ("Some people make jewelry out of teeth." they do?)
And then we came home, and I was really mean to my dad because he wouldn't take me to sonic and I finished season four of New Girl and now I'm laying here in my bed feeling pretty with it, but also pretty without it.
All in all, I'd say I had a successful wisdom tooth extraction and now I just need to not attempt to make any major life decisions while on oxycodone (like the brilliant idea I had earlier: "Oh! I'll make my teeth into necklaces for my Etsy!") and I just might pull through.
Hey, I think look pretty good considering I have four gaping, swollen, bleeding holes in my mouth.
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