Blogger’s Note: I am extremely squeamish in any discussion of dentists, dentistry, and now oral surgery. Since you may also be of that type, I pledge that this article will contain no harrowing details of my oral surgery. Read with assurance.
My wisdom teeth have been removed. The conclusion to a two-month marathon of stress, anguish, anxiety and utter cowardice.
In July I had a bum tooth that turned out to be a wisdom tooth. A local dentist told me it was a wisdom tooth, and it (along with its twin on the other side of mouth) had to be removed. In August I went to Black Hills Oral Surgery for a con$ultation. The result of which was, “Yep, they gotta come out all right.” This was also the consultation where they told me that because of my regular dialysis treatments, and certain prescription medications I take, I would be unable to receive “the gas” during surgery.
Thus began a month of nail-biting, hem-hawwing, and general paranoia about the surgery. From the moment I left that consultation to the day I made my way to surgery in Rapid, I tossed around a number of worst-case scenarious, including:
-What if the oral surgeon puts the novacaine in the wrong place? (This is based on something that actually happened to me several years ago….I was getting a tooth filled and the novocaine started to run out mid-drilling. Hachi machi.)
What if, in his vim and vigor to extract the wisdom tooth, the oral surgeon accidentally knocks out one of my other teeth? (Again, based on a real thing…once when I was getting a tooth removed the dentist was leaning hard on my front teeth while extracting the bad one. I thought, “Damn, I give you enough business!”)
What if, after the wisdom teeth are removed, I am left with a Sylvester the Cat lisp?!?! “Greetingth, radio lithenerth, ith Wenty on K Thee O W!” I brought this up to my three closest friends and they all said there was no way that would happen. Their story checks out. But hey, I worry about these things! Which is not to say I have a great voice. I have a mediocre voice, and anything that could make it worse would be calamitous.
And one more that came to me literally less than a mile from the oral surgery center…
What if the oral surgeon is sick, and I have to come back in another three weeks and go through all this again?!?!??!
That, fortunately, was not the case.
So I get to the oral surgery center. They put me in the chair. They strapped a blood pressure monitor around my arm and put one of the oxygen thingys on my fingers. Damn, this is serious business!
Then, the nurse said something that just about knocked me for a loop.
“Would you like to be sedated?”
Would I like to be sedated? Do I like Pez dispeners, Coca-Cola and Muppets?!?!?! Being a good honest boy I said, “They told me I can’t have the gas.” The nurse said they could use what is called dental sedation, which is delivered via IV.
The surgeon remarked that because of my dialysis and prescription issues he could not give me the full dose. So I could still remember the surgery but I would be much calmer.
I think the surgeon may have misread my height and weight.
They put the IV in and I was out.
I felt nothing. I heard nothing. I saw nothing. I woke up and it was all over.
Now I bet you (and the aforementioned three friends) are thinking, “Oh, Wenty….you sap. It was painless and easy just like we all told you it would be. You, sir, are a scare baby. Now don’t you feel silly?”
To which I reply: HELL NO! I was told I couldn’t get the gas. I was not told, until 5 minutes before surgery, that there was another option. The fact, is, I have a serious phobia of dentistry. Phobias, you know, are irrational fears. Like my pal Kalin who has a fear of flying. But by God, as I write this he is on a plane to Alaska. And as I write this, my wisdom teeth are gone. Hooray for us!
And hooray for my former co-worker and friend for life, Helen Iossi. She provided transportation for both the consultation and the surgery. And when they told her I should have someone nearby for the first night, she put me up in her guest room. I am blessed to have great friends. Even the ones who will say “I told you so.”