That Totally Sucked

*This is a really long post. It's funny in parts and I think it's interesting. If you're bored just check out the pictures. Except the gory one's if you have a queasy stomach.*

When Peter found out I was getting these teeth out his exact words were “Let me know if it's worse than childbirth.” I found this hilarious and informed him that I was certain it wouldn't be even though my birth experience was really great. I think the reason he said that is because he would rather give birth than have two wisdom teeth removed.

Well sweetie, now that the ordeal is over and the teeth are gone I can honestly say – it WAS worse than childbirth. And no one was more surprised about that than I was. Perhaps it is just because the memory of A's birth has faded. And I think I had a ridiculously easy birth. Even so, my wisdom teeth removal sucked. Let me tell you about it.

On Monday night for the first time I started to feel a little panicky about the whole idea. I started thinking about getting needles in my mouth and I started thinking “I don't want to get needles in my mouth.” I forced myself to stop thinking and fretting about it because it would do no good.

A decided to help me out by getting up at 3:00 am, staying up until 4:30 and then getting up for the day at 7:15. (Which by the way, totally messed with my ability to get ready) I wasn't running too far behind and managed to get A to her Grandma's and then get to my appointment on time. Thanks to Elizasmom I had my MP3 player ready with Disintegration by the Cure on it. Coincidentally that was the album I listened to for the last two hours of labour and during A's birth. I guess it is the soundtrack to my most painful moments in life. Fitting if you've ever heard the album. (if you haven't I strongly recommend going out and buying it RIGHT NOW.)

I had remembered before going in for the appointment, when my mind had wandered back to the needle thing again, that they had numbing gel for your cheeks so the needles wouldn't hurt so much. That gel is much more powerful than I remembered it being. So the needles didn't hurt that much after all. At first I was concerned about the fact that freezing was all I'd be getting before they forcibly extracted enormous teeth out of my jaw. Then they left me on my own for a while listening to Robert Smith and gave the freezing a chance to really take effect. And boy howdy, did it ever!

I have never been so numb in all my life. My entire lower jaw, tongue and even my chin were completely numb. They came in to poke at my mouth to see if I'd say 'Ouch'. I didn't. Then the hell began. As I mentioned yesterday they informed me that they would need to cut off the tops of both teeth so that they could maneuver them out. I strongly believe that the fact that they needed to do this was the main contributing factor to how awful the whole procedure was.

My MP3 player was as loud as it would go yet I could still hear the awful noise of the tooth saw thingy. Also, I could smell... what I can only describe as burning tooth. I was told that the tooth cutting tooth “shouldn't hurt” that I “should only feel vibrations”. Well let me tell you it felt a whole lot worse than just vibrations. I can't say it hurt exactly but the sensation was really awful and caused my legs to involuntarily begin trembling. This leg trembling intensified the longer they continued the tooth sawing until it became full on leg shaking which was moving up into my torso and at times even to my head. The dentist asked me if I was 'okay' a couple of times, to which I replied 'yes, I'm fine'. I hate to ever admit that I am anything other than fine in those sorts of situations. I don't know what my problem is.

So they extracted the first and 'easy' tooth after much cutting and reefing. I was happy that the dentist didn't put his foot on my chest for leverage. Then they took a small break which I was grateful for. I took deep breaths, steadied my spazzy legs and just regrouped in general. They whisked in once more and set to work on tooth two, left tooth also known as the tooth that would not be removed in one piece or without much sawing, yanking, breaking apart and coming out bit by bit. By bit. I seemed to get a handle on the leg shaking by contracting my bum muscles. I now have the hardest butt in the world. Then they took another break. This time in the middle of the job.

I was nervous. My brain was working over time. Was something wrong? Did I have some kind of freakish wisdom tooth that they had never before encountered? Were they consulting dental journals? Was I dying? (Just kidding) Also during this time I noticed that a really needed to pee. I knew what a hassle this would be and my dentist and his assistant had disappeared somewhere to draw diagrams of how the heck they were going to get my stupid tooth out. I assessed my need to pee. I wasn't sure how horrible the conclusion of this tooth removal would be and was concerned that it may be so bad that it would cause me to wet myself. Therefore I decided to ask permission to go.

My dentist seemed a tiny bit perturbed. I'm pretty sure he thought I was a wimp with my shaky leg business. I was all, “DUDE, you totally should have seen me have a baby. Not wimpy AT ALL. I totally rocked childbirth.”

Now that I had an empty bladder, they carried on to finish the job. It wasn't more awful than before, just the same level of awful. When they had finished I didn't realize it because I didn't have that same feeling of a large piece of tooth being removed as I had on the other side. All of a sudden the dentist was stitching it up. Because I didn't realize they were done I thought perhaps they had given up and asked about it afterwards. “No, we got it all.” the assistant cheerily told me. Great, all done. Only stitched on the one side. I was amazed that I didn't feel them at all. As opposed to my stitches after A was born. THAT was the part that hurt.

If it is at all possible my face felt even more frozen after they were finished. It felt like my tongue was hanging out of my mouth. I had to feel my face to make sure it actually wasn't. When I attempted to speak it was really garbled and hard to understand. I had the tiniest inkling of what it would be like to have had a stroke and be unable to speak clearly. It was not a pretty picture.

(A Picture of me imitating what I felt like.)


The best part was I didn't have to pay to be tortured. I just signed my name on the dotted line and left. Cool. I went back to my mom's place and she proceeded to take care of me and feed Miss A her lunch. We then went home and A had a nap. I SHOULD have had a nap but instead rewarded my own bravery with a little PS2 Sims 2. My sweet, lovely Mama came back to make my family supper. My supper consisted of mashed potatoes, gravy, and mashed butternut squash. And chocolate puddin' for dessert. I ate slowly and carefully and still it was tender.

To those of you still with me here... Wow! Good for you. This is a stupidly long post. I just needed to get it out there. Now for those of you with a weak stomach skip past the pictures of my extracted teeth and me pulling my cheek over. They are a bit gross. But enjoy the rest.

(These are the yicky ones.)






Lastly, if you think this was awful I consider myself lucky that I am not going through what my good friend Bon is going through these days. Even if you don't know her... go over and give her some love.

(Sorry to disappoint but I pretty much look normal. This face looks surprisingly (or not surprisingly) like my 'labour face', no?)