Getting your wisdom teeth removed impacts your life in many ways, some good and some bad. Here is my story, which will probably definitely be your story, too.
You won’t want to, you won’t even mean to, but you will, however, cry on the operating table because it takes your oral surgeon five times to get your IV in and it won’t even hurt but you will still cry incessantly. Because you are crying and not breathing in the nitric oxide (or whatever) that they are giving you to shut you up, your heart beat monitor will go bizerk and will instill the idea in your brain that you, indeed, may never wake up from this nightmare and something is going wrong because if it was going right your heart monitor would not be beeping at you so aggressively.
Naturally, through your surgeons attempts to find a vein, you will calm yourself down by mentally planning how to divide up your belongings among your favorite friends and family (poke) once you meet your molarless end. Which will work, only until you realize that (poke) no one will ever know what they were supposed to get because you never (poke) made a will and testament (poke) OW!
Your surg will finally finally get your IV in and you will be knocked out immediately. Although, your insides will get HOT and then you will black out, I remember that part.
Afterwards your guy will tell you that there is a good chance you will never be able to feel the bottom of your cheeks again because the positioning of your teeth made this a “high risk” surgery, but you will feel too incredible to care. You’ll think, “What were all of my friends talking about? This wasn’t so bad. In fact, they are babies because this doesn’t even hurt. GOD, I am pretty tough, after all! I don’t even need this Vicodin, but I’ll take it just to be safe. Where is the Jell-O at? Can I have some water? Anyone feeling like driving to Culvers?”
In fact, I wrote the following while in the middle of a Vicodin haze to add to this very blog. No edits.
“It’s only been a few hours but I have decided that this teeth extraction ooo I like the word extraction deal was not bad at all! Except for the blood, I really really do not like the blood. My mouth is a very sad clam today because I can’t move or talk very well, but these drugs are making me so sleepy and so happy that maybe my sad clam is actually a happy clam after all. I have even had a small cup of jell-o in little bitty pieces because my mouth is so tiny today. Bindy and Bean like that I am snuggly because they like to snuggle, too. Feel like an 34.4 out of 10 goodbye.”
Day two won’t be so bad. You will feel the pain, but you will be filled with so many narcotics and still a little numb that the world will still be good for you. Plus, your dad will buy Panera broccoli cheddar soup and that will be way better than twenty-four hours of Jell-O. Oh, and you’ll definitely start looking like the Grinch is trying to crawl out of your jaw line by now. Congrats!
Then, you will do everything right so that you don’t get dry sockets. For example, you will fight the impending urge to use straws which you love. You will rinse with salt water and the medicated mouth wash that they give you, exactly five times a day. You will syringe your mouth after every meal even though ew. And after all of that, you WILL GET DRY SOCKETS ANYWAY IN ALL FOUR SPOTS because life is unfair and sometimes bad things happen to good people.
They’re not even that bad but the “packs” they put in your mouth will ruin your life for about a week. The pain is nothing compared to those horrible horrible tasting packs. But you’ll survive, I hope. Good luck.
This whole experience has taught me two things. One, that parents are the only people you like when you have your wisdom teeth out, because they will take care of you and treat you like a little fat baby for a week and—two, you cannot trust any of your friends when they say you will be fine, or even that you won’t be fine. Because they are all liars and cruel and screenshot pictures of your cheeks on Snapchat behind your back…>:(