Extracted Wisdom

Hello, this is Kayla Haser, guest blogging. For those who don't know, I had my wisdom teeth pulled 10 AM, September 1st.

Years ago, upon learning about wisdom teeth and finding I had all four, I looked them up on the internet. Fear gripped my young heart as I read through the many sites. Having them yanked from your head? Having your gums cut open and the teeth chiseled out? And then there were dry sockets. I imagined that, after the surgery, one was left with empty holes in their gums that often didn't heal up right.

You can imagine that I would be traumatized bythe thought of having to get my teeth removed. If it wasn't for the fact that the wisdom teeth were pushing into my other teeth and hurting terribly, I would have refused to get them out.

Before I went into surgery, I had been reassured by the stories of a few friends. Apparently they hadn't felt a thing during the surgery, or weren't even awake/aware. And when they got home, they had strong pain meds and ice.

My panic depleted, I went to the dentist office with my Mom that fateful morning. I got out of the car with sluggish steps, fearful despite my friends' reassurances. Then, I look over... and see the cutest baby. And it's all for me. My own little comforting, soft, adorable baby!

As we sit down in the waiting room, I hug the little thing to help calm myself. The door opens, and I am presented with a mini envelope with a crushed sedative pill in it.

"Does it taste bad?" I ask the woman.

"I wouldn't know," was her unhelpful response, as she further instructed me to put it under my tongue. It was with disdain that I did as told.

As I thought, it tasted disgusting. I started making gagging sounds until they finally gave me some water, even though I wasn't supposed to drink or eat before the surgery.

When it was finally time for me to go back, I was having difficulty walking but was otherwise alright.

They attached my finger to a horrible heart monitor machine that I will never forget, and prepared their torture tools. I was still waiting for the sedative to kick in and leave me unaware. Maybe I'd forget everything after, and just have to deal with it while it was happening? I hoped that wasn't the case.

They started rubbing numbing, gross-tasting stuff throughout my mouth, seeming to miss everything but my tongue and lips. The loud-beeping of the heart monitor began to sky rocket with my anxiety, my hands feeling just as numb as my lips. I looked at the heart monitor. 140 beats per minute. The realization that I was so scared only riled me further, my breathing coming out in rapid little pants.

"You need to calm down," said the dentist, and my breathing only seemed to speed up.

He eventually left me there, clutching my penguin and staring at the monitor machine.

Eventually he came back, and pulled out a giant needle as long as his hand. He told me to open my mouth, before stabbing me hard in the gums. I cried out and clenched my penguin tighter, tears filling my eyes at the pain.

"After the shots, you won't feel anything else," he reassured.

After three or so more painful jabs, it began. Further tools were picked up, and the first tooth was out without me even being aware of it.

If they're all gonna come out like this, I thought to myself, then this won't be that bad after all. Then he went to the other tooth. Pain flared throughout my mouth, and I made a sound to express my pain. He gave me another jab to the gums, but the pain remained. Time passed, full of sharp pains, the sound of drilling, and my sobbing. The pain only got worse as they cut into my gums to extract the monstrous teeth, the dentist planting his foot firmlty as he yanked on a tooth as hard as he could.

The heart monitor was beeping quicker than ever, as tears streamed down the sides of my face and over my ears. Priorly he had wiped up the stray tears with the bib he had placed around my neck, but now he let the stream be.

I couldn't keep my body from trembling, debating on whether I should just get up and run. Surely that would solve everything. Without the sharp instruments of pain, everything would be better.

I clenched my penguin tighter to myself to hold back the urge, as the pain continued to rage worse than I could ever remember pain raging. Surely there was a better term for it then just 'pain', with how horrific it was.

A hand clenched mine, and the sight of my lovely mommy, so beautiful in this room of ugliness, eased my fear. As I trudged through the seemingly-endless surgery, just wishing it over, the comfort of one of my best friends in this life helped ebb the flow of my tears and calm my panicked heart.

Finally- Finally they were done, after suturing the cut and bleeding gums together. The dentist's gloves were speckled with blood, all four of my teeth on the little torture-tool table before me. One was split in half, and the memory of them drilling the tooth into two pieces elicited a shiver from my form.

When I finally got home, overcome with pain and misery, my lovely family catered to my invalid-self.

After many hours of crying pathetically and shivering beneath three blankets, the pain pills finally kicked in and the ice on the cheeks took away any remaining pain.

My brother let me play some of the most awesome games on his PSP, and even sat beside me and got things for me. My Mommy made me oatmeal and set up a comfortable place for me in the main room so I wouldn't have to be alone in this time of pain. My sister lifted my heart with stories and pictures and fun conversation. And my Daddy gave me comforting hugs.

So, in conclusion, while I was traumatized, tortured, and tormented.... the love and care of my family has managed to nurture me to a state or relaxation and calm.

Thank you, my lovely family :)