As I mentioned in my last post, I got my wisdom teeth out last Wednesday. What a way to start the month!
To be completely honest, I was looking forward to this as it meant I had some time off work. As most people do, I made the mistake last year of using all of my vacation and sick days earlier in the year and had absolutely no break toward the end. Even time off for wisdom tooth surgery was welcomed.
It was much harder than I anticipated, both having the surgery and recovering from it. Leading up to the big day, I was comforted knowing Dante had all four of his removed at once. No, there was no need to capture the moment for Youtube. He simply came home and went to sleep.
However, when the day actually came, I found myself nervous, fearful for my first time EVER going under for a medical procedure. The shit really hit the fan when they had me sit in the chair. It seemed to quick for me. I was led to the back, told to sit in the chair, and immediately started having things attached to me. The little sticky things to monitor my heart, the dreaded blood pressure cuff (those are the worst, as I hate feeling my pulse so firmly), lastly the IV.
I could just see (and hear) my heart rate speeding up. It was like skipping the dates and going straight to marrying someone. It was like taking a test before learning the material. It was all happening much too quickly for me and I wanted to find the exit.
They offered to give me some laughing gas, which I gratefully accepted. It helped a bit to calm me down, but only a bit.
Eventually, the IV was in place, and the next thing was to wait to go under. I begged my surgeon to not make me count back from ten or whatever. I didn’t want to know when it happened. If it was going to happen, I didn’t want to know.
I’m not sure why I didn’t realize it, but my surgeon asked me if I played any sports out of the blue. It should have been a sign that it was coming, but I thankfully didn’t catch on. The last thing I remember was trying to tell him that I played sports in elementary school.
The next thing I knew (cliche, I know), I was waking up with three less teeth in my mouth and Dante was standing next to me with his hand on my shoulder. I don’t remember much of the ride home. All I wanted was to sleep.
Luckily, I have a thoughtful boyfriend who knew we needed to have something set up for me when we got home. It came in handy, as I slept for a few hours on the couch with lots of blankets and pillows.
Since that day, I have been sticking to soft foods. Tapioca pudding, lemon lime jello, oatmeal, and crushed ramen noodle soup has been my life since the surgery. At this point, I am adding bits of real food in there, but it’s definitely not comfortable.
There’s really no point to this post. I just realized this, but have put far too much work into it to go back now. I guess the point is, in most situations I know of, no one wakes up from the surgery and acts like those viral videos. They are fun to look at and all, but definitely staged.
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