So two hours ago I got dropped off at the dentist to have two wisdom teeth yanked. Am back at home now. Can’t talk, but I can type (obviously).
It was an interesting experience. They offered me various levels of anesthetic, and I opted for the local stuff only. The plan had been to do an IV sedation drip so that I’d not remember any of the experience, but I’m not a big fan of, well, any medication in general. So when the dentist made clear that further sedation beyond the local anesthetic would only be for my personal “comfort” with what they were doing, I opted to go with the local stuff alone. No sense running risks unnecessarily, and the IV would have cost more.
I’m glad I went with the local only. Sure, on one level it was disturbing to hear (and see) much of what they were doing, but it was also very interesting. Quite medieval in its brutality. I found it strangely fascinating to see the sweat rolling down the dentist’s brow as he put what appeared to be needle-nosed pliers on my teeth, braced himself against my skull, and started yanking one way and then the other.
There was quite a bit of drilling on the bottom tooth, and it ultimately came out in shattered pieces (which sounded quite icky as they snapped into shards). But the top tooth came out much easier, and they let me keep it.
Yes, I have right here one of my wisdom teeth, in a wee little keepsake box.
I happen to think that’s totally outstanding.
Bravo, sir, for weathering the tooth removal so well. My spouse wasn’t given the option of forgoing the IV drip, and the drug made him ill for several days. No tooth removal pain, just drug effects. And it was a real challenge getting my drug-loopy spouse into and out of the car when I took him home.
Yeah, that’s the sort of thing I hate about medications. I just hope I stop spitting blood soon!