The surgery was a breeze. At least AFTER they got the I.V. in my vein. Prior to that my anxiety was off the scale. After I hopped into the operating chair, they began hooking me up to a machine that monitors blood pressure, heart rate, and temperature. I had something strapped to nearly every extremity of my body. A blood pressure cuff to my right arm, a heart rate monitor clipped to my finger, another heart rate monitor strapped to my left ankle, an I.V. in my left arm, and a sticker on my forehead to track my body temperature.
Needless to say, when the machine started to make audible beats of my heart pumping, it was all too clear how much stress I was feeling. My beeps could have been a metronome to a Metallica song. No amount of “Let’s calm you down” from the nurse would help me level. I looked forward to being knocked out with all the thumping of my heart.
After a few moments of awkward chit chat (it’s a strange position to be in strapped to a dentists chair, hearing your heart beat, and trying to make small talk) the doctor began the I.V. He placed an oxygen mask over my nose and said, “Just a small prick…”. I looked past the tube running from the mask and could see outside into the cold December terrain. The room had a large window placed in front of the dentists chair. It was early morning and white with snow. I smirked when I noticed they had placed a bird feeder in front of the window for patients to look at while being worked on. And just as I was about to say something stupid about this observation….
….I woke up and it was done.
The only question I remember asking was, “Can I keep the teeth?” which they ever so kindly washed and placed into a tiny envelope for me to keep. My father got me in the car and I couldn’t feel anything but the warm happiness of anesthesia and cotton wads. The total absence of memory was such an amazing concept at that moment and I couldn’t help but check the clock on the cars dash over and over. I knew the appointment started at 9am. How could it possibly be 10:20am already?
For the time being, it was absolutely painless. Then the drugs wore off. More next time.
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2 Users Responded in " Wisdom Teefers Yanked: Another Survivor "
That whole synopsis sounds about right compared to the rest of us. In another day, you’ll actually be feeling much better.
I remember waking up after having mine taken out by Dr. McGough, knowing that he had done something, thinking that it wasn’t good, but having no idea at first what it was. He was in a different office back then, so I didn’t have a window to look out.
I’ll have to talk to your dad about whether you said anything funny. John, who is normally not a talker, talked nonstop for about 2 hours after his wisdom teeth were pulled. He was hungry and wanted to stop at every fast food place we passed on the way home. He really did believe at that point that he could break a four minute mile. I probably could have gotten all sorts of info out of him that he would normally not share. But I did the ethical thing and just let him talk without asking him any questions. Yes, the drugs do wear off eventually and the fun ends.
I am seriously tempted to videotape Heather’s antics coming out of anesthesia, but I won’t. Hopefully she’ll enjoy the first couple hours too, before it all hits. I already have pudding and jello mixes in the pantry. I’ll need to stock up on the ice cream so I can make her some chocolate shakes. We’ll let you know how it all goes!
thanks for letting me see your teeth. totally wild. think about letting me gold plate those.
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