When I was a kid, I remember a day when I found my sister curled in the fetal position on my parents’ bed, her mouth stuffed with gauze. They treated her like a baby all weekend. Yesterday I had the pleasure of going through the same ordeal as she did some fifteen years ago: I had my wisdom teeth removed.
Luckily, it being fifteen years later I believe I got the better end of the bargain. Despite having waited until I was twenty-four to have them removed (how wise is that?) it wasn’t all that bad. I was nervous because I’d never had so much as an IV inserted in me, but they treated me like a queen. The nurse kept my nerves down with casual conversation. We talked about eBook readers of all things. Then the dentist came in and the show began.
He fiddled with my IV some and said, “You’re going to start to feel a little dizzy now and itchy.”
“Itchy?!” I exclaimed. “Where?”
He chuckled and replied, “everywhere.”
That was the last thing that I remembered until I was being pulled out of the chair and into the helpful arms of the nurse.
I slept all the way to Hamilton in my father’s truck as he very kindly drove. When we arrived he went out to get my pain meds and I tried not to think about the throbbing ache in my cheeks. Then, I slept again. It was not bliss, but it was nice to be in a bed that was mine, under warm blankets and safe with the knowledge that there are people here to look after me should I need anything.
Today I’m doing better. I still look like a chipmunk and I can’t open my mouth wider than about a teaspoon’s worth, but it’s coming along. Luckily there’s no bruising. All that worry leading up to this was for naught, but I don’t regret feeling nervous. Nerves are important–they get you ready for the unexpected, so I embrace my butterflies. And my Tylenol 3s.