Pin It So, I know I have not blogged for awhile, but I have a good reason, well two good reasons
1. Wisdom teeth got pulled out
2.Girls Camp is quickly approaching!!!!!!!!!
Let's talk about those two things. After my last dental appointment it was announced that I certainly must get my 3 teeth taken out. 3 teeth, yes I know what you are wondering "Shouldn't you have four?!", well yes-- but only 3 grew. And my sister has none. Luckily they were not impacted wisdom teeth so I could get them out without the use of "laughing gas". [Darn! I kinda like laughing gas]
Nervously stumbling and looking cute in my new hot pink pants and coordinating necklace, I jittered on into the waiting room where my father and my brother sat beside me. There isn't a television, nor are there any good magazines in that office so I relied on my thoughts to keep me entertained. The woman at the desk muttered "ma'am, are you going to sign in?" "ma'am?!" I never thought of myself as a ma'am so I never bothered to look to see who she was talking to. After the fourth time the secretary called "ma'am" I looked up and noticed the other two women who had been in the waiting room [both of which were also wearing pink pants & shorts] had been called back to the dentist rooms. I felt embarrassed that the secretary was talking to me. I'm a minor for Peat sake and have never signed myself in. I don't like this growing up business. Any ways, I scribbled down my name, trying to stay within the tiny utilitarian confounding lines of the dentist sign in sheet. I managed to look as awkward as Mr.Bean while I bent over the short counter and filled in the info.
Name - Laura
Purpose - Wisdom teeth removal
As I sat back down a man had come in the waiting area, he was an average height man and he looked as he was dressed for fall time, despite the 70 degree weather. He was wearing a dusky blue cap, and work pants and seemed just as, perturbed as I was to be there. Deneane, my usual dentist called me back to the dental facilities and I was asked to go in room 2. I NEVER go in room 2, I always go in room 1. So as strange this dental trip was, it just got weirder. I met the man who was going to yank out my unwanted teeth and do who knows what to my mouth. He was a man from India, wore a grey turban and his beard was gently turning grey. Thick eyebrows covered what forehead left revealed by his large turban. Jokingly he asked how I chose the color of my nails, I looked down, forgetting I had neon pink nails left over from when I had painted them the night of the SAT. Scan-tron colored. Without giving much thought to his question I answered, I don't know and he carried on. A baby blue paper bib was place over my baby blue shirt. I was hopeful the color coordination was planned- but it wasn't. I then was given strange sunglasses that had obviously never seen the light of day. I wiped them off on my bib, and placed them on my face. Rising up the chair brought me even higher off the ground than before, my nerves were causing me to shake. At first my heart was pounding, but then it grew so forceful of a feeling my hands were jittering. He numbed me. With every heart wrenching view of the needle that was to carry the numbing liquid my heart beat harder. I began to tear up- pain set in and I wanted to get up and run, run to save my nerves. The only thing keeping me in my chair was the polar bear poster hanging on the ceiling. It had a momma bear, and two cubs. I cried when I saw it, thinking off my child hood fun. Tears of joy followed by tears of pain, fear, and nerves. After a few white lies from the dentist "Oh, I'm not pulling them out yet, just checking" and after what seemed like 15 shots, 3 teeth were removed successfully. I probably looked my Niagara Falls, water streamed down warm on my numb face. Thankful I had been left alone I sat back up awaiting the list of things I could and couldn't eat. The assistant had put gauze in where the teeth were, to
"stop the bleeding" gosh I am so squeamish! Told I could go to the lobby to see my father (my brother had been picked up by my mother) I took a deep breath and twisted the door knob.
As I walked through the door I saw the man still sitting there, the one dressed for fall. I held in my tears and I walked out of the lobby with my dad. As we excited the office into the daylight my dad asked "well was that as bad as you thought?" I nodded, thinking of what I would say if I could talk - "worst". My mother had forgotten I was going to get my wisdom teeth taken out, I don't think she even knew, but that is okay. I didn't really know. Spooning gobs of ice cream into my mouth posed a difficult task. I was far too sore even with lots of drugs in my system. Tiny mounds hurdled on to the spoon, and half was all I could eat. I was exhausted, hungry, sad. I spared my tears and tried to "be fine". I went to bed at 11. Forging my thoughts with "it's okay, you'll NEVER have to do this again!" I sleep on my stomach normally so sleeping on my back was impossible. The next day I arose from my rest with a huge blue bruise on my left cheek and large dark circles under my eyes. I wanted to cry, stay in my pjs- but the emptiness I felt in my stomach and the responsibility of taking my meds was far too much a motivation to do what I wanted. That whole day I stayed in my room, anti social until asked if I wanted to go to Joanns. My favorite store appealed to my longing for joy self. I left the house wearing dark sunglasses. I saw some friends from school, hopeful no one would recognize me I scurried around the store grabbing paper packs for my projects. Success! Unrecognized, I had successfully made my way in and out of Joanns.
And that is basically what happened with my wisdom-teeth.
my face is a little less bruised. Okay well maybe it's still bad.
I can now eat real foods! (I hate to say it, but I was getting tired of ice-cream)