Tuesday, August 19, 2014

There are two jars of banana baby food in the fridge, and they have my name on it.

 I got my wisdom teeth pulled today and the procedure went pretty smoothly. I checked in at 2:15, acknowledged the palpable "dentist office smell," and right away began filling out the HIPA form and new client pages. I can't tell you the kind of unanticipated relief that comes with crossing off  medical problems like congestive heart failure, lupus, and cancer. Health is one of those things that gets taken for granted and only appreciated when you get to plant a big X across the entire box to save time at the dentist's office. If I had the time, I would read through each of the maladies- their symptoms, prevalence, life expediencies..- and start a #icebucketchallange for each.

A consultation was in order. The dentist said the teeth were "impacted," professional jargon for half busted through- half concealed under gum and jawbone. He asked if I was planning on going under or getting locally anesthetized. If I chose to go under, we would have to come back for a later appointment on a day I had not eaten: I chose local. I could tough it right, what percent goes under anyways? "95% of my clients," he said. *Gulp*

The needles for the Novocain were the worst part: I remember feeling really anxious, imploring with the nurse that I could move my mouth and would be able to feel everything once he started. She laughed. I didn't.

When he started all I could feel was pressure. Unlike his patients who go under with general anesthesia and want to be as far removed from the horrors of surgery as possible, I wanted to know everything and made him recite out loud as he completed each task.

"I am now scraping away the gum tissue."
"You'll feel a bit of pain"
"Some slight pressure to extract the tooth."
"Two stitches in, one more to go."

I asked if I could keep the teeth. They gave me a perplexed look, then wrapped them neatly in a sterile bag.(FYI, the tooth root really does look like those saber toothed x-ray images.)

 The Dentist told my mom I was "A Trooper." I didn't get one of those free oral care bags- everyone secretly loves- stashed with floss and mouthwash and fun things that actually come in handy when the house runs out of toothpaste, or when you're in need of a new toothbrush right before Pesach.

Not allowed to play sports or do any physical activity, so I'm just sitting under my yellow quilt now feeling tired, hungry, and drool-ey. The only thing that could make me feel more like a baby is.......oh ya.

Sincerely,
Gerber's Stage 4: Banana Creme Baby Food

No comments:

Post a Comment