So I have yet to understand why wisdom teeth earned their moniker. I get that they show up when you're older and supposedly wise, but these teeth? They're stupid as all get out.
I started having pain due to one of them rupturing. I realized that must've been exactly how poor Vince felt when he was teething - only on a much larger scale as he had several fighting their way through his poor gums. I just had one!
Anyway, I finally went to the dentist which was a feat in and of itself. Since having a very bad experience as a child, I've been petrified of dentists since! I seriously went YEARS between check-ups because I was so scared of the thought of being suffocated by another dentist. Took me until the day before my wedding to finally gather up the desperation necessary to force myself into a dental chair.
But I digress.
I finally decided that the pain coupled with the mounting problem of "crowding" were too much to deal with and got myself checked out. My oral surgeon did not look happy at all. Of course not.
She said, "Well, are you sure none of your other wisdom teeth are bothering you?"
I said, "They bother me once in a blue moon, but it's really just that bottom right one."
She replied, "They're all going to have to come out. All are bony impactions and one has a cyst growing around it."
"How difficult is it going to be to remove them all?"
"On a scale from 1 to 10?"
"Yes, a scale from 1 to 10."
"Well... maybe an eight."
Oh yeah... 'cause that makes me feel so much better.
She then asked, "Do you want to be put under or just gassed?"
"UNDER... definitely under. I don't want to remember my name by the time you're finished."
"Well, depending on the cyst, we may need to have you somewhat awake because if you breathe in any of the fluid from the cyst, you could get violently ill."
And we wonder why I hate dentists... why even bother to ask me my preference if you're gonna answer with THAT?
"You may also need a bit of nasal surgery."
"As I mentioned before, your roots extend fairly far. There may be what we call a communication - a hole that basically connects your throat and mouth to your sinus area. We'd need to perform minor surgery to suture you up to close the communication."
I am inwardly growling at her, fully knowing it's not her fault, but still wanting to blame her for everything anyway.
"There's also a bit of an issue with your lower right tooth. These roots are also rather deep and seem to be precariously placed near the nerves along your jawline. There's a chance you could lose sensation in that quadrant of your mouth permenantly."
GAHHH - ca'mon!
"Don't worry, though - no one will really notice but you. There won't be any drooping or drooling as a result.
Finally, there's the issue of your jaw itself. You have a... your cranium is on the smaller side which makes your jaw rather delicate. There is a slight chance your jaw fractures a bit as we remove those lower teeth."
I seriously wanted to tear out of there screaming. I'm not even a little bit kidding. My knuckles must've been white as snow as I gripped the chair trying not to freak out.
So yeah - I get this surgery done tomorrow - Thursday - and I'm REALLY not looking forward to it. To ice this wonderful cake, I was told about a week and a half ago that I've finally got a hearing date due to a car accident (been waiting 3 plus years for this). Guess when? Next Wednesday. So hopefully I'm able to talk without wanting to shoot myself by then, 'cause I have no doubt I'll be required to talk for a good portion of the day. ARGH.
Anyway, on the plus side, John pointed out that if I do lose sensation in my mouth, I could start making money as a fire-eating side-show act... or by shoving nails into that part of my face. *Shakes head* Gotta love him.
So yeah - all that said, please keep me in your prayers. I'd much appreciate it! Thanks all!
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