Adventures In Wisdom Teeth Extraction: Part One

I began my walk to the PRT station. It was raining, but not too bad. After I had gone about a block, the wind and rain really picked up, and my umbrella was of little help. I thought it was going to break actually, and I was still getting very wet. Finally, I reach the PRT station only to discover that this year they have decided to shut it down for Thanksgiving break.

It is 10 minutes until my appointment is supposed to commence, so I have to walk back home and get in my car. I get to the office about 15 minutes late. After some brief paperwork, I am seated in “the chair” and one side of my jaw is numbed. There is a large Craftsman tool cabinet to my left, much like one would expect to find in an auto garage but no in an oral surgeon’s office. After 15 minutes of small talk with one of the assistants, the right side of my jaw is numb and the procedure begins.

I can hear/feel him digging into the side of the lower tooth (feel as in the vibrations that are sent to my jawbone and skull–there was no pain). After a little bit of that, he clamps the tooth and puts some pressure on it. I can hear/feel it crack as it breaks free. It is probably the most disconcerting part of the experience. He firmly wiggles my face around, working the roots free, and then pulls the tooth right out of my mouth. The same process begins for my upper tooth, but I can feel just a tiny bit of pain. He notices that I am aware of some pain and numbs my upper gums a little bit more. He then continues the process and finishes the task relatively quickly and easily.

Throughout the process, I can still sort of talk, and the oral surgeon and I make jokes and small talk to ease the tension.

Next, he numbs the other side of my jaw, and I stare at the ceiling for about 15 minutes waiting to get numb. Once I have become numb, he begins work on the upper tooth. It is the same process, but actually getting the tooth out takes slightly longer. The roots were more firmly secured, and when he finally gets the tooth out, I can hear/feel him dragging the roots out of the socket. This is slightly more disconcerting than the “crack” is. Now he begins work on the final tooth. He has much more difficulty with this one, and he has to cut it in half because one of the roots is wrapped around at a 90-degree angle. Once the tooth is in half, he rotates the last root out and removes the rest of the tooth.

The assistant shows me my teeth and the root that caused some trouble with the last tooth. It is kind of neat. They escort me to the front office and make sure that I am lucid and OK to drive, and then they give me some prescriptions for antibiotics, painkillers, and something else, and they also give me instructions on what to do following the surgery to ensure a good recovery.

I drive to the pharmacy and hand them my prescriptions. I can’t talk because my mouth is full of blood and spit, but I am able to communicate through a series of humming-style pitch variations and by writing. I wait and stare at condoms, blood-sugar monitors, reading glasses, and cold medications while they full my prescription. The total comes to about $70. I pay and exit the store. Once outside, I call my parents to ask them to transfer $70 into my account just to make sure that I don’t come too close to overdrawing my account. I say hello to my mom and then I can’t say anything else because of all the blood and spit in my mouth. I lean over a trash can and let it drip out for about 30 seconds, and then I manage to ask them to transfer the money. They say that they will and tell me to take care of myself and that they love me.

I drive home. I take a picture of my swollen face for Fragale, because she thinks it will be funny. I also let the blood drip out of my mouth again–this time into my bathroom sink–it is very thick and mucous-like because my sinuses decided to start draining down my throat rather than dripping from my nose. They are making it difficult to breath, and I also have to be careful not to put any pressure on my gums when I swallow mucous so that I can breath.

I change the gauze out an hour after the surgery ended. The blood-soaked gauze is pretty gross. My mouth fills with blood, spit, and mucous almost as soon as I get the gauze in and shut my lips.

My lower lip is very swollen and my jaws are starting to get sore. I imagine that the worst will be coming soon. For now, it is time to lay back and watch some TV.