Speaking of "foursomes".
Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2005 8:38 pm
Hey guys, what's better than having one wisdom tooth removed?
Having all four of them removed at once! No, really, it's fun, you should give it a try.
By the time I was seventeen, all four of my wisdom teeth had grown in. I have a ridiculous overbite, so I barely noticed the top two. My bottom row, however, was already packed in pretty tight, so the sons of bitches hurt growing in. Unfortunately, I made (and still make) very little money at my part time job and we didn't (and still don't) have insurance. (I have emergency insurance as provided by my college, but that only covers, you know, emergencies.) And my parents weren't much help; they're subscribe to the "if you ignore it, it'll go away eventually" variety of medicine. I also managed to break my ankle my senior year, and they convinced me it was just a sprain. I was still stupid enough to trust my parents, so I believed them. Until it grew back funny.
But as I was saying, wisdom teeth. About Monday or so (the day after I turned 21, happy fucking birthday), the bottom right one started to hurt. Like nothing I can possibly describe. Maybe electrocution is worse, or childbirth, but this was fucking crazy. I took six tylenol at a time just to dull it enough so I could sleep. On Tuesday it started to swell up, and I said fuck it all and told my parents they <i>were</i> going to help me pay, and made an apointment with the local dentist. Dentist schedules me for a next day consultation in Londonderry (about half an hour from me). There was not going to be an extraction that day.
Until the surgeon took a look at my swollen, infected cheek, my partially impacted molar (which was poking a nerve, which caused most of the pain) and basically said (in her sweet, Indian accented voice) "oh HELL no." (She didn't actually say that, but she meant it.) At that point I couldn't open my jaw enough to actually eat anything, so I'd been drinking water and orange juice. She said the OJ was too acidic, but they ended up putting me under anyway. (and for those who haven't experienced it, laughing gas is called that for a reason. The last thing I remember before waking up again is giggling like crazy.)
I woke up maybe five to ten minutes before they were done. I think. It was hard to tell; it felt like forever. M'not gonna lie: I cried. A great deal. Yeah, y'know, it hard to be brave with drills in your mouth. Once they were done and my dad came in, my BP went back to normal pretty quickly, and they let me leave.
So that's my tl;dr story. The surgery was yesterday, so I'm still really, really swollen, and the infection is still there, but both seem to be going down. The bleeding has mostly stopped, and as long as I don't sleep on my right side it doesn't start up again. I still can't open my mouth all the way, so it's been water and yougurt smoothies for me. I think tomorrow I'll try making a milkshake.
Having all four of them removed at once! No, really, it's fun, you should give it a try.
By the time I was seventeen, all four of my wisdom teeth had grown in. I have a ridiculous overbite, so I barely noticed the top two. My bottom row, however, was already packed in pretty tight, so the sons of bitches hurt growing in. Unfortunately, I made (and still make) very little money at my part time job and we didn't (and still don't) have insurance. (I have emergency insurance as provided by my college, but that only covers, you know, emergencies.) And my parents weren't much help; they're subscribe to the "if you ignore it, it'll go away eventually" variety of medicine. I also managed to break my ankle my senior year, and they convinced me it was just a sprain. I was still stupid enough to trust my parents, so I believed them. Until it grew back funny.
But as I was saying, wisdom teeth. About Monday or so (the day after I turned 21, happy fucking birthday), the bottom right one started to hurt. Like nothing I can possibly describe. Maybe electrocution is worse, or childbirth, but this was fucking crazy. I took six tylenol at a time just to dull it enough so I could sleep. On Tuesday it started to swell up, and I said fuck it all and told my parents they <i>were</i> going to help me pay, and made an apointment with the local dentist. Dentist schedules me for a next day consultation in Londonderry (about half an hour from me). There was not going to be an extraction that day.
Until the surgeon took a look at my swollen, infected cheek, my partially impacted molar (which was poking a nerve, which caused most of the pain) and basically said (in her sweet, Indian accented voice) "oh HELL no." (She didn't actually say that, but she meant it.) At that point I couldn't open my jaw enough to actually eat anything, so I'd been drinking water and orange juice. She said the OJ was too acidic, but they ended up putting me under anyway. (and for those who haven't experienced it, laughing gas is called that for a reason. The last thing I remember before waking up again is giggling like crazy.)
I woke up maybe five to ten minutes before they were done. I think. It was hard to tell; it felt like forever. M'not gonna lie: I cried. A great deal. Yeah, y'know, it hard to be brave with drills in your mouth. Once they were done and my dad came in, my BP went back to normal pretty quickly, and they let me leave.
So that's my tl;dr story. The surgery was yesterday, so I'm still really, really swollen, and the infection is still there, but both seem to be going down. The bleeding has mostly stopped, and as long as I don't sleep on my right side it doesn't start up again. I still can't open my mouth all the way, so it's been water and yougurt smoothies for me. I think tomorrow I'll try making a milkshake.