My wisdom is gone

It had been scheduled months ago, after I had taken months to gather courage to phone for an appointment.

I had lost one wisdom tooth already in 2020 but that gave me quite a scare. Now two more wisdom teeth were deteriorating and postponing would only trigger more trouble and urgency eventually.  It was decided that I'd best get rid of them all together, with full anesthesia.  Still not a thought that made me comfortable, but I knew we just had to do this.


Frankly, when it approached, I was also a little bit relieved to hand in a medical note for a few days of absence at work.  I stayed in meetings until my moment of departure to be distracted from the small surgery and then I walked to the hospital. 


I followed the guidelines if you have a cold in the day hospital and put on a mask and then waited in my lovely surgery shirt until it was time to get wheeled away. 

Falling into the anesthesia is such a weird sentiment.  There is literally a few seconds that you turn dizy and feel like turning 'even though you are on the bed) while someone waves a mask in front of your face and...you're gone. 

I woke up fairly ok and there were people around me which I found reassuring.  Just regaining consciousness with some gentle beeps behind a curtain etc, but nobody in sight is not so fun.   It didn't take too long before I got wheeled back to my room, got icepacks around my cheeks and received a Coke and a popsicle.  But my cheek and mouth was still so numb from local anesthesia that I had no clue for a moment how to drink or eat the ice cream. 

Back home the anesthesia seemed to fade out after a while and my mouth and cheeks came alive...Yikes, more icepacks, keep changing those icepacks.  I didn't think I'd be able to sleep that night if I had to take the icepacks off and also sleep higher up with extra pillows. No way I'd be able to sleep on my side as I always do.  So I was a bit  stressed out to go to bed, but eventually I must have been so exhausted by the anesthesia that I slept rather well. 

The day after I kept myself quite, I was constantly hungry and already sick of the thought of eating more yoghurt or soup right from the start and counting down and calculating when I could take the next painkiller every 3 hours (alternating Ibuprofen with Paracetemol).  I spent a day bingewatching in a haze in the sofa.  In the morning it was actually difficult to open my mouth properly and have a conversation but that eased during the day. 

Day 2 was rather similar but I didn't calculate the painkillers as much anymore and tried to add more time in between. And I did some small chores in the house again.  And I tried some Mexican food that I didn't need to chew much (so no nacho's nope) in the evening which was such a relief.  

Day 3 I started getting around again, going to the market and seeing my mom.  I still took a few Ibuprofen though although the prediction was I no longer needed them.  I also really feel the need to rinse thoughourly my mouth after each meal as my gums and mouth come alive and burn after meals.  

And then later than predicted, when I got back to work I got bruise marks on my cheeks, but fortunately, they weren't too bright and visible.  I stopped taking painkillers and after a while dared to chew more and more.  It took me a moment that I could still chew with the remaining teeth and just had to make certain that no hard pieces moved to the back of the mouth where the healing wounds were. 

After one week I can say that things almost entirely normalised.  My gums are still extremely sensitive and still feel a bit like I've eaten too much crusty things but no more than that.



And my wisdom? Well, time will tell if I have sufficient wisdom left in me ;).