Well hello there ladies and gentlemen,
So, let me recap the last week of my life.
After my trip to the dental clinic, and their suggestion that I get all of my wisdom teeth removed, mom made the appointments for last Thursday (consultation) and Monday (surgery).
I stayed up too late last week to make a poster for a presentation on Tuesday, that my program director asked me not to miss. Blah. Went to work on Wednesday, left to come home early Thursday morning.
Went to the consultation appointment where my oral surgeon, in his attempts to make me feel at ease, made me feel more like he was brushing off the fact that I was scared to death. So that back-fired for him. Maybe it's because I'm in a counseling program and it seems like 98% of the time, the response to give to a student is "validation". Tell them how you think they feel based on what they've said. All he had to say was, "Wow, it sounds like you're really scared about this, but ..." and I would have felt much better. It's dumb, but it works, and that's why they tell us to do it.
ANYway. So I left and ate 20 chicken nuggets, partly to make-up for the fact I didn't get to eat them when I got my job, and partly to drown my misery in sweet and sour sauce.
The weekend stretched on pretty slowly. I babysat Paul for most of Saturday and almost all of Sunday. That gave me something to do besides think about the terror of getting four teeth ripped out of my face. We went to the park, rode his bike, played video games, etc.
Finally, Monday morning came. Luckily I slept pretty well on Sunday night. That was great, except for the part when I dreamt about three times that it was already over and I was at home in bed. Waking up and realizing it still had to be done was really sad.
Because mom can't really move off the couch and I felt like Dad should go to work since he's missed so much time caring for his ailing wife (mom won't like that...), I asked Laurel to take me because she had the day off. She picked me up, drove me over there, and sent me away into the back. I sat down with the oral surgeon who again told me what was going to happen.
He sent me into the next room with the medical chair and all. Two nurses came in and went right to work hooking me up to machines to monitor my heart-rate and stuffing an oxygen tube up my nose (wasn't expecting that!). Then the doctor came in and put the IV in. He started talking to me about Harvard and the next thing I knew, I was groggily opening my eyes with a nurse standing over me. She said we were done. It felt like I had been asleep about 30 seconds.
I told mom and Laurel I did NOT want the teeth, so the nurse said, "I know you don't want them, but do you want to see them?" I mumbled "Sure" and she showed me them. They were all bloody and nasty, one of them was sawed in half. Ick. She asked me how my vision was and I motioned that the room was spinning. She told me to take my time.
About ten minutes later, she plopped me in a wheelchair and sent Laurel to get her car. They moved me into the car, and buckled my seatbelt. Laurel kept telling me she was going to video my drugged escapades, but... I wasn't really out of it. I was a little wobbly and my head was foggy, but I remember everything that happened after I woke up from surgery, so that's good. I was really weirded out by the possibility of not remembering two days of my life.
I think the worst part of the whole thing was driving home, because my eyes weren't quite keeping up with the moving scenery, and I started to feel really sick. I covered my face with my jacket and felt fine after sitting still on the couch for a little while. And trying to sleep with a numb lip and tongue; I had to hold paper towels next to my mouth to catch the bloody drool that I couldn't feel. That was NASTY.
Anyway. I can't smile or laugh really, but I don't feel pain more than a dull ache, which is how it felt before I got them out. My face never really got swollen. I've been trying to brush the teeth I can reach, but my mouth still feels like something died in there. Mostly I've been laying around wanting to eat things.
Yesterday I struggled through some scrambled eggs and pureed lasagna that Laurel made (I was hungry!). And Erin and Megan had flowers delivered to me, which mom said I didn't deserve, so apparently I'm recovering too quickly. I've been showering, doing laundry, watching movies, and sleeping a lot. Mostly mom and I lay around and argue about who has it worse. "I can't eat anything!" "Yeah, well I can't walk... or sit!"
So that's that. Today I have to write a paper that's due tomorrow.
All in all, it wasn't so bad. But I really really really just want to eat candy. Or 20 more chicken nuggets. YUM. Sadly, the internet is saying it could take a month before I'm completely healed?! But I love crunchy foods!
I'll stop my whining now.
Oh, and turns out the medical insurance would only pay for the removal of the impacted ones. So... that was $650 out-of-(momanddad's)-pocket for the other two. The whole thing cost almost $2000, so Megan, if you got yours out for $900, you're lucky!
