Dental Surgery

I'm on time-out or something. Image:

I’m on time-out or something. Image:

I’m taking a few days off from, well, everything. I totally look like a chipmunk, I’m seeing spots, and I’m nauseated. Also, sadly, I can’t drink fizzy things, or use a straw at all, which makes drinking a bitch.

In the end, the dentist removed two of the teeth like they were held in by warm butter. Then he got to the bottom right one, and spent a bit more time there. Not too bad.

When he moved to the last one, my bottom left wisdom tooth, we hit a snag. He had to cut my gums and cheek because they were all grown together from scar tissue, because I chew on my cheeks. Then, the tooth broke. In four places. In the end, he had to drill the roots out of my friggin’ jaw which sucked balls.

Most of the surgery bits would have been FINE if I hadn’t been experiencing some serious anxiety. I even took the laughing gas. Turns out, I’m part of the tiny percentage of people that it doesn’t work for. I did all the usual things, like obsess over what he was doing, and build elaborate conversations in my head about what I should say, and how he might react. It was awful. Next time, I’m going for the sedation, end of story.

Now, I can’t yawn, because my cheek bleeds. I can’t breath through my mouth, because it burns. I can’t brush my teeth, and I consider myself lucky to be able to eat ice cream and swallow my pills. I just hope I don’t friggin’ throw up.

Oh, yeah. I also had a killer infection. When the dentist says, “Holy crap!” while assessing your mouth, you tend to pay attention. It has been lanced, and I’m on some pretty serious antibiotics, so I hope that’s the end of that.

All in all, I might post if I’m up to it, over the next couple of days, but don’t have your hopes up too high, okay? I love you all, and I’m glad you aren’t here to hear me cry. Carry on, and drink some fizzy stuff through a straw for me, okay?

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