So I had that one random wisdom tooth out today. I was really freaked about it going in, and M had a good explanation for it: "That's the problem when you're never sick - being sick or having something wrong affects you more than it might others." Of course, hearing his horror stories (and the stories of countless others) didn't help with my fear.
It wasn't so much the actual tooth removal that scared me, but the drugs. (The tooth was actually kinda neat on the X-ray - the top was normal and straight up, but the bottom long two points were really curved away. It looked like a jellyfish or something. I really wish I could put the X-ray on here, it was funny.) I learned that I was getting three different types of drugs for the surgery - local novocaine on the actual area, an IV of Valium (!) and then the anathestia gas. They told me it would knock me out. And the idea of losing an hour and not remembering anything was really freaky to me. Plus I had some paranoia about experiencing some side affect of being knocked out. It's being a bit wussy, I know, and it could be way worse, but I'm a chicken shit, I guess.
Anyways, I go in, and they lay me down and put a heart monitor on my finger. Which doesn't help the nerves (but didmake me think, wow, just like on the medical drama shows). They put the gas mask on, and as I breathe, my whole body becomes more and more numb, which I hate and makes me increasingly nervous. I shut my eyes for a minute, open them, and poof - surgery's done. WEIRD.
So it's done, and I was a bit fucked up earlier, but now I feel okay - it's just taking forever for the bleeding to stop entirely. So I've had lumps of gauze in my mouth all day (and now I'm popping frickin' VICODIN post-op, like Dr. House!) and for the past two hours, been following the suggested alternate of taking a tea bag, wetting it, and wadding it against the extraction point. Which is gross, because your spit mingles with the tea leaves, and you've got mouthfuls of light brown goober. I just took the last bag out, put in some fresh gauze, and I'm hoping it's stopped. We'll see.
Otherwise, I've kept a steady icepack against my cheek in the hopes of staving off any future swelling. M was so nice to me, particularly when I came home and I was on the verge of fainting and really confused about all the instructions. He's always physically warm, and has big warm hands, and when you're upset, it's such a comfort to cuddle up. He even got lecture-y like my mum when it came to keeping to the schedule and eating, which was funny.
Speaking of mum, again, funny, but earlier today M asked if I wanted to call her. I did, but 1) I had a big wad of gauze in my mouth and 2) I didn't figure she'd be home (she's the Exec. Director of a Community Foundation and works more regular hours now). I also feel a bit silly that I want to talk to my mum when I don't feel well when I'm pushing 30, but hey, I do.
So who calls at 6:30pm? :-)
Even if it was just for a few minutes, it was really good to hear her voice.