That Time I Had Oral Surgery

Fair warning: I talk about my oral surgery in this post. If you are squeamish, maybe skip this one and look at my Christmas pictures again.

Hey Internet!

Life has been CRAZY recently. Between school and work and Christmas, I’m a bit frazzled. (Any one out there want to teach me calc 3? My professor isn’t great and it’s a struggle for. real.)

Other than those things, there have been rando things taking up my time. You may remember I had oral surgery a few weeks ago (always super fun) and I thought I’d come and tell you that story, because if you don’t get a blog post out of things like this, what do you get? Nothing. You get nothing… Well. Ok. Not true, but I don’t want to give away the grand finale.

Now I know it seems pretty after the fact, but I still have a bruise from the IV, so I figure this post is still fair game.

So. Oral surgery.

This is the second time I have been put under so that a dentist could take a tooth out of my mouth. (Not to be confused with the EIGHT baby teeth they removed from my mouth while I was conscious to get me in braces faster. Having your two front teeth pulled at the same time makes you SUPER popular in first grade. Ask me how I know this). The last time I went under anesthesia for tooth matters was when I had my wisdom tooth out when I was 17. (Yes. Tooth. I only had one. Genetically it makes sense because one of my parents had 2 wisdom teeth and the other had none. So I got one. That’s how genes work, right?) and neither of these times did I have any sort of David After Dentist feelings (super disappointing I know), but that does not mean I don’t have stories.

Oh trust me. There are stories.

So I got to the doctors office super early in the morning. They had me put on a hospital gown (It sounds impossible, but I’m pretty sure hospital gowns are getting worse). It had so many ties it took me about 5 minutes to figure it out (did I mention it was early in the morning?). Then the nurse came in, told me I had it on backwards and the struggle continued.

Once I was fully gowned up, I was taken into a room where an anesthesiologist poked me with about 3 needles. Let the record show the first time a man took my hand and got down on one knee he was trying to place an IV. In my wrist. Which is where it finally took. (Mind you this is after he popped a vein in my elbow. But that’s not surprising. I have really terrible veins. It’s natures little way of making sure I never try heroine… Not that I’ve ever wanted to try heroine. I’m just saying that if I wanted to, I’d never be able to find a vein. What is happening? Why am I talking about heroine?! This took a strange turn…)

Anyway. After the IV was in my wrist I decided that it was early so I’d just close my eyes while they started the procedure. I was a little alarmed when I realized they were legit working on me while I was still awake, so I opened my eyes a few times, only to be told I was doing just fine. I was thinking that I should probably be asleep for this seeing as I gave them literally all my money to do this procedure and a good portion of that was for anesthesia, but their hands were in my mouth so I just closed my eyes again and listened to them talk. I was a little weirded out by their topic of conversation (it involved bodily fluids and medical procedures), but again there were hands in my mouth so I just sat there and listened.

That’s about the time they told me I was done. Apparently they had decided to wake me up while they were stitching up my gums because that sounds like an amazing idea all around. I was taken into a recovery room, given some Vicodin and sent home with my roommate.

I slept all day, took a lot of Vicodin, ate some applesauce and put ice on my face.

And everything was fine. It hurt but I had pills. After a few days the stitches got in the way of everything, but my roommates said they wouldn’t take me to the hospital if I tried to cut the full centimeter of stitches hanging
in the gap of my teeth should it not go as planned. I ate a lot of soup.

And now it’s pretty healed. Eating while missing a tooth is not the best thing in the world (I won’t say that stray food particles tend to hang out in the gap only to make a second appearance an hour later, but I won’t say it doesn’t happen either. I know. But listen, sometimes life is gross. You just need to embrace that fact and stop judging me, Internet).

But now it’s time for the grand finale. Are you ready? I’m getting an implant in this tooth and had to get a bone graft in that tooth, which means that I HAVE A DEAD PERSON’S BONE IN MY MOUTH. This a true life thing they do. They put cadaver bones in people’s mouths to… I don’t know… do something for the implant.
Listen Internet, I’ve been through weird medical procedures before, but this one wins for the most morbid, and if you know me you know that means I think it’s awesome in a weird way. So sue me.

So now that I’ve made you all never want to go to the dentist again, tell me about your weirdest medical experience. Because I’m a weirdo who likes talking about these things.

One Response to That Time I Had Oral Surgery

  1. GIRL. You had me cracking up. Um yeah calc is a struggle. Especially for those of us who seriously suck at math aka me. And yes, I am positive that is how genes work. And girl, I didn’t know you were getting an implant. YOU KNOW I LOVE ALL THING DENTAL!

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