What evolutionary function do wisdom teeth serve? It is believed that due to the diet of our early ancestors that wisdom teeth served to help tear apart foods. But in a day of utensils, chicken nuggets, and jell-0 the need for wisdom teeth has become obsolete. But not only are they obsolete, they also serve to induce a plethora of oral catastrophes if they are not forcefully ripped from you maw.
Recently I underwent through the joy of having my wisdom teeth, 4 of them, cut out from beneath my gums, and then pried out. It was really a coming of age ceremony -- one of the few left. And, with the intent of vacating the state for two years, it was deemed necessary. My wisdom teeth had not yet crowned, this is what is called impacted. The top two teeth were not so hard to remove, however the bottom two required the oral surgeon to slice open my gum, shave through my jaw bone, cut the teeth in half, and yank them out.
Let me describe the whole ceremony from my point of view. I missed classes on Thursday to go to the oral surgeon. I arrived in style: sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt, with my mother. Upon entering I began to shuffle through the magazine collection. I would be willing to bet that the only people that still subscribe to magazines are dentists and doctors offices, all with the hope that people will be overcome with the desire to read about K-Stew and Rob-Pat, before being sliced open and impaled with needles bearing chemicals.
Shortly thereafter I was called back to get an x-ray and to verify my ability to pay for the procedure. The secretary directed me to a tall white machine. I was directed to bite down on a piece of metal as the machine sent invisible waves bounding through my skull. How fitting that the machine sounded exactly like an orchestra from hell tuning their instruments. RRREWWWRREEEY.
The secretary, I liked her by the way, then led me to a room where I was to meet the surgeon. Besides my mother my only company was a plastic skull covered in metal and screws. Apparently Dr. Vhiewig, my surgeon, also specializes in facial reconstruction surgery. Upon questioning him he described that he has had to lift up the peoples eyeballs and screw in metal plates to the surrounding bone structure. The Dr. then proceeded to tell me everything that could go wrong in removing my wisdom teeth.
Following this I was led down a hallway to the operating room. Adorning the hallway was every certificate that the Dr. has ever received; at least I know that he's qualified. I sat down in my first class seat and was given some laughing gas by a short female operating assistant. "Quick," I exclaimed, "Tell me a Laffy Taffy joke so that we can prove once and for all that they are not funny under any circumstance." "What's a Laffy Taffy joke," she inquired.
I sat around breathing in laughing gas until the Dr. stuck me with an I.V. and injected the drugs that knocked me out. I'm not sure how high I counted to because all I remember was something like this.
I'd much have preferred just blacking out.
Waking up began in segments. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. "That wasn't so bad," I thought, "Well, time for me to wake up. Why are the nurses laughing at me."
"That wasn't so bad," I thought, "Well, time for me to wake up.Why am I in a wheelchair?"
"That wasn't so bad," I thought, "Well, time for me to wake up. Am I in my car?"
"That wasn't so bad," I thought, "Well, time for me to wake up. Look I'm walking to my doorway." I then saw my body grab onto things for support, and inch towards the doorway. Proceeded by the only sensible thing to do: spit out my gauze and throw up all over the entry way. "That's weird," I thought, "I haven't eaten anything since yesterday."
That really woke me up for a time. So I laid down on the couch. "Mom," I informed her, "Drugs are soooooo bad for you, they're just so bad."
And there I stayed icing my face. I'd like to say that I was loopy but that I felt fine. The truth was quite opposite. I was perfectly coherent but my body functioned the same way that a deep-fried Twinkie would. Nausea would be an understatement.
So I slept until the drugs wore off. Took more drugs and drank some ginger ale. Then I slept again.
After several hours like this I was able to function. Pain was not severe, cheeks were slightly swollen, thinking normal, body felt like crap.
I spent the rest of the day eating soft foods and watching TV (Phineas and Ferb and Warrior).
I slept in my sisters bed upstairs.It took a while to get to sleep, but finally I drifted off. The next day was fine, my cheeks continued to swell, but I was otherwise fine.
The whole process wasn't very memorable. I still don't remember how long I counted before I was knocked out, or why I threw up. But I do remember that Warrior is a fantastic movie.
No comments:
Post a Comment