Chomper removal

Well, all of the anticipation and anxiety has run it's course. I now have an informed understanding of surgical procedures and what should have been generating the MOST fear: RECOVERY. I had all four wisdom teeth removed (three were impacted) on Friday, 12/11 at 10 am. I was incredibly nervous as I was traveling to the dentist's office, but it helped that the surgery was at my regular dentist's office and there seemed to be nothing special about the experience as I entered the office. When they took me back to the chair, it all looked fairly benign. There were no giant knives or needles that I observed, which was a great sign. When I was seated in the surgical chair, my oral surgeon began to ask me questions about my academic program. I was shaking the entire time and probably not offering the most articulate rationale for my research. This would be good practice for dissertation defense.

As they were placing the IV in my arm, the doctor commented on the level of oxygenation in my blood. He said it was impressive and I was hoping that my oxygenation might some how give me an edge in the surgery and/or recovery. Doubtful, but maybe... I told him that I was, in fact, terrified and he replied, "Why, you have the easy part? I have the hard part." Okay, that didn't help any!!

My biggest fear during surgery was that I would be paralyzed from the anesthesia, but I could feel every stick, drill, tractor...whatever they were doing to my poor teeth. I did feel the incredibly painful Novicane shots (ALL FOUR) and I did hear the doctors speaking throughout the surgery. I don't remember the actual surgery or waking up, though I did remember asking to see my teeth. He said they were already in their final resting place (the biohazard bin), and after doing some of my own research, I would imagine they are in tiny little fragmented pieces.

May I take this opportunity to address my former teeth? Dear Teeth, I HATE YOU. I hate you for being in my mouth and causing me to miss out on eating for days. Thanks for that. I hate you even more for allowing the duration of this entry to take place.

So, my mom and friend Nancy came with me so they could drive me back from the surgery and look after me in the immediate hours after the removal. I can't really remember much about those hours, but I was feeling mostly okay. I slept a little, walked around aimlessly a little. My friend Katie came over and joined us, and this is when the fun began. Katie brought over a bunch of food-like items and assorted goodies to keep me occupied. I was only prescribed one Vicodin every 4 hours and it turned out that was one Vicodin too few. I wasn't able to form the blood clots, so I kept having to replace the gauze and was essentially producing mouthfuls of bloody drool every 10 minutes. It was delicious and I bet I never looked better. By not forming those clots, I left my nerve endings fully exposed in their vacant little oral beds and I could feel every little sip of water and vanilla frosty. The pain caused me to shake uncontrollably and my teeth to chatter. It was awesome. Katie called my surgeon and the pharmacist, who both agreed to let me up my dosage by another pill. I also replaced the gauze with moisturized tea bags. This contained me for a few hours. I still couldn't talk, but I was able to write everything on a notepad. This provided my guests with lots of entertainment because I sometimes deferred to charades to communicate. At one point, my friend and I were calling someone a name that rhymes with "Crass-mole". Jaimie Krause, class all the way.

The evening before surgery, my friend Danielle delivered a bunch of non-solid food items so I wouldn't starve on my new mush diet. The evening after the surgery, Bobby came over and we watched episodes of the Office because I couldn't sleep. By Friday night and into Saturday morning, I was feeling better again. So much so that I decided to go shopping with my mom on Saturday and invite our several awesome friends who brought me even more great stuff (Phil, John, and Susan-thank youuu!). So many nurses!! We attended a Chanukah party on Saturday night, and I was doing okay for about 15 minutes there. I tried to gum down some matzo ball soup and I accidentally relied on my back teeth at one point. Big mistake. I had to excuse myself from the party (which was right down the street) to pop a few more pain pills. Perhaps I should have attempted some other food, since I had very little in my stomach at this point. At about 11:30 pm, I began to feel a little queasy. By 12:00 am, it was full-blown nausea. I will save you the details, but let's just say the "experience" lasted until 5:00 am. Bobby tried to call my doctor several times from the hours of 3:00-5:00 am to no avail. Finally, he had to take a trip to Walgreens to get me some anti-nausea medication. After he returned and I downed the meds, I rushed to the restroom 3 minutes later. I was a mess and there was nothing that could help me.

Today (Sunday), has been a little better. My friend Russ dropped off some soup, which has helped a bit. I am in pain, but I am forcing myself to also eat ice cream and mashed potatoes. I discovered two incisions in each of my cheeks, which seem to be complicating my recovery. I don't understand why they are there and they seem to be aching more than my actual empty sockets. I have Bobby on dry socket duty. He is armed with flashlights and has to inspect the area every few hours. I am sure it's a lot of fun for him (and also smells like roses), but he's taken it like a trooper.

Thank you to all of my nurses who have supported my recovery (in order of arrival): Mom, Danielle, Nancy, Katie, Meaghan, Bobby, John, Susan, Phil, and Russ. Although I am mostly still uncomfortable, I would not be where I am in this process without you. :)