I had my upper left wisdom tooth removed a few weeks ago. It had been through (ie. I could brush it) for years and my dentist kept pestering me to have it removed. Actually his precise, caring words were, "You'd better not come in here with a big abcess for me to deal with". Last year he even tried removing it, but it wouldn't budge, I started fainting with the pain and stress so we aborted after about 15 minutes, and I was left hanging upside down with an oxygen mask clamped to my visage. Anyway, the tooth had been giving me real pain on and off for a while and last month I was unable to open my mouth very far ("Hurray", said Ball & Chain). Time to put the big girl knickers/panties on and pay the oral surgeon a visit.
Now I have had three kids, two c-sections, four lots of gum surgery (where they slit open your gum, file back the bone and stitch you back together), and a broken nose whacked back into place. You'd think a wisdom tooth extraction would be a bit of a walk in the park wouldn't you? Or am I becoming a big baby in my old age? I decided life's too short to put up with unecessary pain and requested nitrous oxide (laughing gas). I didn't want to be put out completely, (who has time for that?) but didn't want to be too aware of what was being done to me. Apparenty aneasthetizing an elephant would have been easier. He maxed up the level of gas, and not much was happening. Then he gave me the local anesthetic which had to be topped up twice because I could still feel my teeth and gums.
I won't go into the detail of the actual extraction, suffice to say my back was arched the entire time, my fingertips became embedded in the arms of the chair and I had to be constantly reminded to breathe. There's still a "sliver" of root in there which will apparently work itself out over time. I just hope I'm not deep in conversation with anyone when it makes its appearance. That would be worse than spinach between the teeth.
More surprising to me is how long it took to feel okay after the ordeal. I had a huge headache that day, (from the tension) and woke up the next day feeling like I'd been hit with a truck/lorry. Every time I bent over my head started pounding and threatening to explode, and I had to suck on bread and survive on cold, runny food for what seemed like a year.
More distressing (she says with tongue firmly planted in cheek) is that I was on strict orders not to do anything strenuous in case I made the tooth bleed again. Tragically, this also meant a ban on working out. I know - terrible really. (I am regretting that hiatus now, I can tell you.)
All this recovery has made me decide that until they come up with pain free ways to eradicate wrinkles, firm up jaw-lines and otherwise enhance one's looks, plastic surgery is not on my horizons.