I've kinda always prided myself in having straight teeth. I remember going out to breakfast with a pastor and his wife and him randomly interrupting the conversation to say, "You have great teeth."
I remember going to the dentist and him telling me my wisdom teeth were coming in, but they shouldn't be a problem. Then I remember him seeing that they were starting to crowd my mouth, and if things got too crowded I could kiss my teeth's straightness goodbye, but there was no rush. Then they got infected. Well, that certainly wasn't fun. X-ray after x-ray... we were moving closer to an extraction. Of course, the oral surgeon suggested taking all of them out (why wouldn't he? it's his job.) Are you still reading this? I'm sorry.
Sigh. My mouth hurts.
So today happened. We've been saying it for years. "Gotta get those wisdom teeth out... they're impacted, you know"
I don't even know what that means.
But today was the day. Yes, they are gone. Well, two of them at least.
There's a gaping hole in my mouth.
And there's nothing natural about that.
I have been swallowing blood for nine hours now.
There's nothing natural about that either.
I feel lopsided.
First came yet another x-ray. Somehow I think there had been some confusion as to which teeth were supposed to come out (always a comforting thought...)
"Bite down" she said.
"I can't"
There was a woppin piece of cardboard in my mouth. Unfortunately it moved the first time so she had to do it again. She stuck the thing so far back in my mouth I started to gag. "Off to a great start" I thought to myself. At least she was nice and sympathetic about it.
Then I got moved to another room. It was cold. There were fish all over the wall. There was a stuffed lizard on that light thingy and a whale on the ceiling. I got my first dose of numbage. Then the doctor came in. Laid me down, propped my mouth open with some sort of crowbar, and said his famous line "Just a little pinch" Yep. Then he asked for another syringe. "Yes. Get it good and unfeelable." I telempified. The lady who took my x-rays held my hand as he emptied the second shot. All earlier choking was forgiven.
Then they both left. I was alone. I was wearing a Dr. Seuss bib. I felt myself getting drowsy. Must have been psychological.
Then the other orthodontist lady, who's actually a friend of ours, came in to chat about teeth. She asked me how I was doing. I went to answer her and realized that my lip was numb, which made it very difficult to speak. Somehow I communicated that I was doing fine. Then the doctor came back in and the fun began.
"Just gonna loosen things up a bit" he said. No problem. He started digging around on the bottom. Yep, we were good down there. Then he started digging on the top. I felt *something* and instantly started to panic. If I felt that... what in the world was coming? I didn't want to know. Apparently that *something* began the bleeding process.
"That feel Ok?" He asked.
"Well...."
A third syringe presented itself.
"Go ahead and close your mouth"
That... was a difficult task by this point.
Ah, then the excitement began. "You're just gonna feel a little pressure" He explained. I could deal with that. He asked for something called an "elevator" I thought that was the mouth propper thing... apparently it wasn't. He started pushing and pulling and.... turning? Like a screwdriver. Those wrist movements just didn't look right. Eventually he asked for some other tool... we'll call it "the first pair of pliers." He started to pull.
Nothing.
Back and forth he went between the elevator and the pliers. I was praying that he wouldn't have to cut my tooth. He kept pushing and pulling. I didn't know my mouth could stretch that far and in those directions. He eventually took a break from the bottom tooth and started working on the top. I heard a gut-wrenching ripping noise. Now, that was just gross.
He kept having to wipe my mouth out with those gauze square things... eventually his fingers went a little too far and I felt myself starting to gag again. Not cool.
Anywho. He continued to push and pull. I thought eventually I would see the thing fly up in the air... but no. Finally. It broke loose. "Ah, now for the hard one he said."
Also not cool. But also, not true. Just a joke. Always get a dentist with a sense of humor."
The top one came right out. The dentist left promptly as the lady cleaned up my teeth. She asked me if I wanted to see them. I felt as if I was getting to see my new born twins after hours of labor (actually the procedure was only 45 minutes). We sat there and stared at the teeth lovingly for a few minutes. "You were very brave" she said.
Oh goodness.
Actually I was glad she said that. Cause it hurt.
I was not very talkative in the car on the way home. I didn't even want to go into Publix (now that should tell you something right there). I just kept looking at my teeth in the little treasure-box container. They were beautiful. And large. Like, scary large.
I knew I was feeling better when I texted my dad and said I did actually want to go to chickfila (after turning him down a few minutes earlier).
OH! I almost went to bed without putting them under my pillow. I need to go do that.
Goodnight.
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