Yes, that’s right. It’s another week and thus another time for me to remember the horrible history of my mouth. I think my teeth are probably my most abused body part, unless we’re talking about my face in general, because I have had to wear horrible stage makeup and have gotten several basketballs to the face in gym classes.
When I was finished high school and got my braces removed just a few months before graduation, I thought the worst was over. There were no more tight metal grates glued to my teeth, no more tacky rubber bands. There were (almost) no more difficulties with flossing, though I do have a metal band glued to my bottom teeth, meaning I still have to use floss threaders to manage. And I finally had straight teeth, even if I had to wear a retainer every evening. As I entered college, I was pleased to think I finally had ‘adult teeth,’ even if those supposedly came in back when I still believed in the tooth fairy.
Alas, during one of my checkups, my dentist noticed something at the back of my jaw that suggested a wisdom tooth was appearing. They took an x-ray to be safe, and that’s when they noticed something concerning. Not only was one wisdom tooth indeed coming in, but another one seemed to be trying to make a valiant escape by growing horizontally, towards the roots of my other teeth. That meant I needed to get two wisdom teeth removed already… and so, to save some time, they said “screw it, take the other ones too.”
I had my operation date set for just a few days after I started my summer vacation. I had already lined up a summer job, but I was fortunately able to move my start date so I could make a full recovery. The dentists recommended I take two weeks, since I would be getting all four out at the same time, but my mother, who had already had a wisdom tooth removed, doubted I would need all that time.
Oh, she was wrong to doubt. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The surgery was in Regina, so my mother drove me in. She even treated me to a ‘last supper’ at Smitty’s, though my appointment was early in the morning, so it was mainly a breakfast. I had discussed with my parents whether I should be completely knocked out with anesthetic, and we eventually decided it’d be fine if the surgeon numbed my mouth entirely and I was left conscious.
That was… quite an ordeal to go through conscious. The needles with the numbing drug were huge and were injected directly into uncomfortable areas of my jaw, including the roof of my mouth. Even though the surgeon waited until the drug took effect to, well, drill into my mouth and pry off the offending teeth, I could still feel something like a very weird pressure. Hearing popping and scraping sounds inside my mouth wasn’t a very comfortable process, either.
I’m pretty sure I cried a few times. I know that makes me sound like a crybaby, but the whole situation was so odd and borderline painful without actually causing pain that I couldn’t help sniffling. Eventually, the procedure was done, though. I was released from the room so my mom could lead me out with a prescription for painkillers.
She had went into Walmart for maybe 10 minutes, but when she returned, she found my cheeks had swollen like I was a particularly greedy chipmunk. Partly to soothe my bleeding gums and partly to make my transformation to acorn-hoarding animal complete, she stuffed my mouth with cotton balls after giving me a pill for the pain.
I have a problem with medication making me drowsy, so even small doses of Gravol leave me conking out. The prescription I took was far more potent. I remember waking up just before the bridge to Melville. My mom said something to me, possibly “Finally awake, sleepyhead?”
“Muuuuuh?” was my eloquent response before I passed out again.
Due to the soreness of my mouth, my days underwent quite a few changes. I lived on dairy products like Greek yogurt to get nutrients, and I think I was halfway through my second week before I was even brave enough to try something as solid as scrambled eggs. I took painkillers three times a day, but because they knocked me out, it meant I’d wake up, eat, pass out again, eat, pass out again, eat and pass out for the night. This made me look like the epitome of a lazy teenager, but I did actually feel awake and alive when I finished my prescription.
The other problem, and the one that persists to this day, was the holes in my gums where the teeth were ripped out of my skull. These holes were bleeding and gaping and dry when I had the surgery, and I had to gargle with salt water in an attempt to close the wounds. Now, the holes are merely gaping. There’s a flap of gum that hasn’t quite closed over the hole, and just recently, I had an infection in that hole because it’s so impossible to keep clean.
It’s an annoyance that’s now my reminder of a very painful experience. I do consider myself lucky that it’s over with now, but I hope it’s the last dental emergency I suffer in a long while.
