Got my wisdom teeth removed on Friday. Quite a pleasant experience, actually, except for what happened afterwards: the numb mouth, bleeding gums, and of course the eventual pain as my mouth protested the heartless extraction of four of its rightful inhabitants.
But yeah, the actual experience was just fine. After Friday class, I went over to the house of my F&F (fiancee and family). Played with the kids for a while, helped Lana put windshield wiper fluid in her car (that's very significant, BTW), and then my lovely wonderful girl drove me over to the oral surgeon. We presented our handsome down payment (a check courtesy of my terrific parents) to the, uh, payment lady, then sat down in the waiting room to, uh, wait.
After a few moments -- "Luke Hobbs?" -- yup, that's me, and I had to bid my lover goodbye, leaving her to imagine all the terrible things that could potentially happen to me, and head into the operating room.
Dr. James A. Remerscheid greeted me and informed me -- for the second time, as he had already told me all this when I visited to set up the appointment -- that he would give me a general anethesia. Just pop a little IV in the arm, give a few squeezes from some little knockouter-thingy, and in a few moments I would, as he put it, "go fishing." And then he'd get my teeth out.
Scarcely any pain as he deftly inserted the IV needle into my arm (directly on the other side of my elbow). He drew a little bit of blood out, then squeezed the knockouter stuff in, and almost immediately I started to get lightheaded. I was still totally conscious, but sight was definitely blurry. I commented on it to the nurses, about how it felt kinda weird but I was still definitely awake --
And I don't know when I "went fishing", whether it was at that moment or a little later on, but that's the last thing I remember.
By the time I regained consciousness, my mouth was completely numb, but I could tell that it was filled with gauze pads. The first sight I remember seeing was my lovely bride-to-be, sitting in a chair in the corner. As she later informed me, I had been awake for a while, and talking to her, but "awake" and "conscious" are two entirely different things. Apparently I told her several times (before regaining consciousness, that is) that I was pretty lucid, and that she was nice. The latter, of course, is something I tell her all the time, but it still strikes me as funny that I said it several times and don't remember it at all.
Anyways, she and one of the nurses helped me outside (I was definitely walking wobbly) to Lana's truck. We got on Rogers Avenue, took a brief detour to Wal-Mart so she could buy me some water, and then went home. My wonderful Lana stayed with me for a little while, then left to go to her home before it got dark. Then I went to sleep for a while.
By the time I woke up, a couple hours later, pain was slowly beginning to make its way into the mouth. I didn't mind terribly much, because the bleeding had pretty much stopped and I could finally get the stupid gauze out of my mouth. Mom fixed chicken noodle soup for dinner, and I was able to ingest it, if not chew it. I ate a whole bunch of it, because it was the first thing I'd had to eat since a bowl of Honey-Nut Cheerios at 8 that morning ('cause you're not supposed to eat or drink anything whatsoever for six hours before your operation).
So for the last day and a half or so, I've gotten to take it easy and rest. The doctor prescribed me some pain pills for the teeth (or lack thereof), but I only had to use 'em a couple times; Tylenol and ibuprofen the rest of the time. Think I'm gonna go take some more in a few minutes, 'cause my mouth is hurting again.
Anyways, that's my experience with wisdom teeth removal. The actual process isn't bad at all; it's the aftermath that's rather painful. I suppose that's the way it is with most surgeries. (BTW, I don't know that they actually did any "surgery"; at least three of the four teeth had come all the way in and so I think they just yanked 'em out).
It's two days after the removal, and my mouth is still fairly sore, and I'm pretty tired, but other than that I'm fine. I do want to thank a few people: Dr. Remerscheid for not messing up my facial nerves and making me unable to smile ever again; my beautiful Lana Marie for driving me and helping me and buying me water and caring for me all-around; my parents for taking care of this before I got married, and thus picking up the tab for it (I know it's a big sacrifice, Mom and Dad, but thank you so much for it; it's a blessing to me and my bride-to-be, and Lord willing it's the last major expense of mine you'll ever have to cover).
Forgot to mention that the extraction has made me grumpy at times. Or maybe I'm just inclined to be grumpy anyway and I finally have an excuse. I don't know. All I know is, yesterday I was hurting and hungry (not a good combination for a teenage guy), and irritated because I had already eaten the few things I could eat for lunch and was still starving. So my wonderful mom fixed me two baked potatoes with butter and sour cream and shredded cheese. *Sigh*...
Saturday, February 9, 2008
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18 comments:
Walking wobbly, yeah. Standing wobbly too.
It wasn't funny right then, but now that you're completely conscious it's, well, it's awfully funny. Cuz, (do you remember?) you stood up, and started to fall back down your eyes were going any which way and you seemed fairly surprised that you weren't steadier and you said (this is my best imitation of gauze-filled numb mouth speech) "oh, daht's wee-ard... Im oh-kaaaay"
:^P I love you, darling.
I *thought* you became actually conscious while I was sitting down...
The smell of disinfectant and the blood on the gauze, mixed with a lingering nervous feeling, made *me* lightheaded, so I figured I'd better sit down, cuz I wouldn't be able to drive you home if *I* was out of it!
I think the reason I was nervous was that you didn't seem quite okay- your eyes looked pretty weird - kinda distraught almost.
That's how I could tell when you were awake, your eyes were clear and awake and looking right into mine....
I'm incredibly glad your nerves didn't get cut, and that you can still smile at me.
Hope your mouth is feeling well, and that you're staying well-fed :^P
Iluvyou...
Lana that's freaky bout the eyes!
Luke I'm glad you made it though I think you just discouraged any of us from ever getting our wisdom teeth out when we get older. :P JK... at least it *was* a success story. But I'm afraid of what I'd say or do while I was knocked out!!! ACHK!
I was knocked out once. They pulled some teeth that were never gonna come out by themselves. I HATE to go out. Nope don't like it. The all of a sudden not having anycontrol over my being is terrifying to me.
I sorta woke up when the nurses dragged me out of the building. I wasn't helping. From what I remember I was um fighting them and mom was sorta standing to the side nervousish. Please keep in mind that I was heavily drugged as of yet and don't really know whether that is accurate info.
Then my next memory (I might have actually been conscious here) was being in the very back seat of the van with my mouth filled with gauze and my forehead againstthe window.Maybe I wasn't awake then cuase I don't remember anything after that.
And d'ja know what the worst part is? I must do it again for my wisdom teeth. SNAPDRAGONS.
btw I will get the skittles to their rightful owner.
I certainly don't mean to convey the impression that the removal of wisdom teeth is especially hard or painful. Sure there's some pain afterwards, and it takes a little while to recover, but it's not bad at all. 'Course, my teeth were in, so I *think* they just yanked 'em and didn't have to cut much.
Being put out was actually almost fun (in a resigned sort of way).
I love you too, darling...I think I remember the falling and eye-rolling and stuff...
Ha!! I don't have wisdom teeth, therefore, they can't get removed. So, I will always be wise because nobody can remove my wiseness. if that makes any sense at all...
Well, Tony, maybe it means that. Or, perhaps it actually means you will *never* be wise, and that (even worse) you will never even be wise enough to recognize it.
But, you can console yourself with the knowledge that if you have no wisdom, it cannot possibly be removed.
:P
Sorry, Ton, you set it up!
Luke, darling, btw, I don't ever want to get my wisdom teeth, or any teeth, removed... It just does NOT sound (or look - I've seen the aftermath) like a pleasant thing to me.
ick.
Ah, Lady, you figured out who to give the skittles to? :^P
Tony what do you MEAN you don't HAVE wisdom teeth?? That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard of!!
Luke it still totally weirded and grossed and freaked me out.
btw Luke I just saw you linked to my blogs, thanks... ;) does that mean you read mine? LOL I never know who reads it and I always wonder...
But they aren't blogs of doom!!! :( ???
Being knocked out does sound a bit... scaryish! My Dad just had sinus surgery and it took not as long as they thought so they'd given him too much drug. Hence, he was not awake at all and had to stay the night there, much to the freakouttedness of our boys who thought he was gonna die when he left anyway. When he did eventually come back, he was like, sleepwalking. So... I think I want to leave my wisdom teeth in and just be wise!!!!:P
Me, too, Meggy, though I doubt that I'll get much say in the matter. All the same, I dontwannagotosleepwiththepeopleinmymouthandpullingpartsofmeaway!!!
Sweetness, I'm a BLOGGER OF DOOM!!!
That is flippin sweet. Can I feel loved now Lana?
Alright, it may not have hurt you badly because your a guy and everything. I'm a girl with low pain tolerance and I'm particularly fond of fainting when in pain. You officially have me freaked out. I'm fond of food too. This could be a problem.
~Nicole
You didn't faint when you sprained your ankle or got burned, Colie. ;)
Tony why is it so cool to be a blogger of doom? I'm not sure I like the title.
Yes, Tony, you may feel loved now :^P
Being knocked out was rather scary, the idea anyway, but the actual process was no big deal at all.
Pain, on the other hand, yeah, that can be a much bigger issue.
Getting wisdom teeth removed is, of course, not for everyone. If they're not going to interfere with the rest of your teeth, you're probably just fine leaving them in. You'll have to get your dentist to tell you whether they'll pose any problem or not, though, and then you'll have to decide whether you trust your dentist's word. My dentist is flippin sweet, so it wasn't any big deal to trust him when he said that the bottom two wisdom teeth, in particular, would pose major problems in the future.
Yeah, I'm weird; I like my dentist and have never dreaded visiting him. Probably partially because I've never had a cavity.
I like my dentist because we used to go to church with him and most of his hygeniests (sp?) :P
Having been there done that, with the wisdom teeth thing, I can honestly say that I do not remember a thing about the procedure. I went fishing! ;o) But I got very puffy afterwards. I looked like a chipmunk. I ate icees and snowcones and chicken broth. Having very low pain tolerance ('cole!) I just laid around with bags of frozen peas on my face (hey, they work the best. they mold to your face! but they stink as they defrost.) You are only supposed to take those pain pills once every 4 hours, right? Well, I just took them whenever I felt the pain coming back and took three with in 6 hours. THus created one of Marshall's and mine first funny stories!! We had been downstairs watching a movie, and he's putting on his shoes to go home (we were still courting - not engaged yet) and I got up to go upstairs. I started feeling wobbly and said, "Marshall, I think I may need some help." So he comes over and takes my arm to help me upstairs. Before we can make it across the hall to the stairs, I blacked out and fainted!! So I like to say if he hadn't of been there to catch me I'd have cracked my head on the floor. So he drug me over to the wall and propped me up, where I started coming to, and he was yelling for my dad. Dad came and helped me up at which time I realized, those pills were not going to stay down. So they both helped me to the bathroom. Dad looked at Marshall, who was holding my hair back and said, "this is where the rubber meets the road, buddy." And I won't tell the rest of the story. YOu get the idea. Gross and sad then...but quite the object of laughter now!!! There. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it! ;o) Glad you faired alright, Luke.
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