Tooth-Pulling Fun
Yes, I've posted this on my MySpace blog as well. But I need SOMEthing on my new LJ..since I deleted my old one, and all. Tee-hee.
So now I'm going to complain about my 3 missing teeth. A LOT.
Okay, so that isn't very fair. I'm glad they're gone. Really. My wisdom teeth have been paining me for over a year, but certain...things kept me from having them amputated.
- Procrastinated.
- Insurance messed up.
- Became pregnant.
- Went to dentist anyway, but needed a doctor's release that never came. Went to get it myself, went back to dentist, in which case they said I need EXTRACTIONS (no, for REAL?) and another doctor's release.
- Screw it.
- Had baby.
- Procrastinated.
- Realized I had gallstones.
- Insurance screwed with me again.
- Took care of gallstones.
- Went to dentist, who took more x-rays, and referred me to a dental surgeon (since one of my wisdom teeth never came through).
- Procrastinated.
- Chipped one of the bastards, which turned into a jagged piece of pain.
- Tried setting up an appointment with the surgeon. Told that I can't be seen until JULY 10TH.
- Jagged tooth starts hurting more and more, so a few days later I cancel my appointment.
- I call around town looking for another surgeon that accepts my insurance.
- Apparently the one I just canceled an appointment for is the only one in the county who does.
After crying for a bit, I called my normal dentist and told them that I just wanted my effin teeth pulled already. So they promptly set me up an appointment. Once I get there, one of the dental assistants calls me up to tell me blatantly what I already know.
"We referred you to a dental surgeon."
I explained that I could NOT wait 2 months, as my teeth were hurting me. If by hurting I mean literally stabbing the inside of my cheek to the point of bloody soreness. She told me that if they pulled more than 1, then the surgeon would never accept me (something about "needing at least 3 teeth to pull otherwise the insurance won't work" or some crap like that). I thought about it for two seconds, then said I'd take the risk - as, by July 10th, I probably won't even be in CA anymore.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the dental chair. I had to sign a few forms, "in case of this," "in case of that," "in case of death," etc. I thought I was going to be put to sleep - which I pretty much always want to do as LITTLE as possible in this kind of situation - but I realized I was wrong. The dentist (I'll call him Dr. Payne) gave me 6 shots of numbing fluid - two on the upper left side of my mouth, two on the upper right side, and two on the bottom right. The shots HURT. And it's also when I realized I was not going to be out for this "major surgery". It was at that moment that I wished I would be put to sleep, after all.
But instead of complaining, I skimmed through People magazine while waiting for the numbing to take full affect. It didn't take long (I felt like I couldn't swallow), and a few minutes later Dr. Payne and his assistant rushed in and went right to work. My mouth was forced open so wide I almost thought that my jaw would unhinge. He started pulling the top molars first - I thought my chipped one was going to be the hardest, as it was...well, chipped. I figured it would be more difficult to get ahold of, and might even crumble if touched wrong. But it turned out to be the easiest one. I felt no pain at all as he used some tool to wrench it back and forth, loosening it. Though it didn't hurt, the pressure was killing my jawbone. The crackling noise it made in my head (it sounded like bone snapping slowly like a tree branch) was extremely disturbing. Then he took this plier-like instrument, and yanked it out.
He almost instantly went to work on the next one. Again, I felt no pain, but just knowing what was going on and HEARING it break inside was killing me. The taste of blood filling up my mouth was nearly as bad as the smell of it filling up my nose - if you've ever had the misfortune of being in a slaughterhouse, then you know this horrible, nauseating smell. The assistant kept putting the straw in my mouth to suction up all the blood. Each time she did that was like a silent reprieve. After this one was pulled, I realized my heart was pounding and I was shaking. But I was also laughing at how easy this actually was.
So I got ahead of myself. This was before Dr. Payne started to pull the last, bottom-right one. The one, that I would see very shortly, that the numbing anesthetic had not worked for.
Picking up his wrenching tool again, he set to work. He yanked back and forth trying to make it loose, and then tears suddenly spurt out of my eyes. Sharp pain had taken hold of me and shot from my jaw up into my brain like a bolt of electricity. I pushed my left hand in the air, as he told me to do if I felt any pain. He stopped and, without asking any questions, grabbed a syringe of more anesthetic. I was given another shot, and he went back to work. It still hurt, but I let him try loosening it a little more before I complained again. He said that we'd wait a bit for the numbness to take a better affect.
Dr. Payne and the assistant left the room for awhile, and I picked up the People magazine again, trying to stop my hands from shaking. The right side of my face did get a little more numb after a few minutes, and I thought it was good to go as the pain was fading significantly. When the doctor came back, he started to loosen it again. It still hurt, but not as bad, so I decided to not "say" anything this time. Then he grabbed his pliers and tried to yank it out.
I nearly screamed. Instead, I jolted in the chair, and then raised my left hand again. He didn't see it and just kept trying to pull it out, and I in turn almost poked his eyes out by shoving my left hand directly in front of his face. Then he stopped, and gave me yet another shot - this one on the other side of my gums, underneath the tongue. The memory hurts.
Another few minutes later, he started pulling again. The last shot made no significant different. Other than a numb tongue, numb lips, numb cheek - virtually numb everything OTHER THAN the tooth he was trying to pull out. I could have raised my hand yet again, but I was tired, frustrated, and just wanted this over with. So I decided to deal.
Embarassingly, tears were now streaming down of my face, to the point that the assistant had to continually wipe them up. But at the moment, I didn't care. All I could focus on was the pain, all I could feel was the pain. It hurt so bad that I can imagine myself in the form of a wild stallion, rolling its eyes around and snorting madly. But instead of bucking around in the chair, I was rigid. After a couple of minutes, Dr. Payne said, "You can relax now, it's out." I couldn't believe it. The pain still hurt so bad that I hadn't realized it had already been pulled. I let my grip on the arms of the chair go, and nearly laughed as I saw my palm prints indented in the plastic.
And then I breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. Finally. Yay. He had to stitch up the gum of the tooth he just pulled, because apparently it was infected so he had to yank out the roots, as well. Funnily, that part didn't hurt. I guess in contrast with the pain I just felt, almost nothing could phase me.
While he was stitching me up, I realized my throat was unbelievably dry and so I started coughing and hacking all over the place. I tried covering my mouth so it wouldn't get all over Dr. Payne's face, but then he couldn't see what he was doing. He had to stop three times so the assistant could spray water down my throat, before I could stop coughing.
Then we were all done. He said thank you, left, and then the assistant told me to lay there for a few minutes as she cleaned up. She promptly wiped up all the blood off of my face, off the tray, off the wall across the room, and so on. Then she went to get me an ice pack. She came back and I was dizzy beyond belief, and kind of out of it, so she made me stay sitting for a few minutes.
Then I left, picked up my three prescription painkillers, went home, and relaxed. I had to change the gauze in my mouth three times, and then again in the middle of the night, because it wouldn't stop bleeding. I was afraid to go to sleep with a bunch of gauze in my mouth, so I stayed up for an hour in the middle of the night so the bleeding would lessen. Today it doesn't hurt AS bad anymore (the top teeth that got pulled don't hurt at all - just the bottom numbless one).
But compared to how much it hurt yesterday, that's not saying much.
P.S. Looks like I'm back on my Cream-of-Wheat-like diet. Yuuum for pudding.
So now I'm going to complain about my 3 missing teeth. A LOT.
Okay, so that isn't very fair. I'm glad they're gone. Really. My wisdom teeth have been paining me for over a year, but certain...things kept me from having them amputated.
- Procrastinated.
- Insurance messed up.
- Became pregnant.
- Went to dentist anyway, but needed a doctor's release that never came. Went to get it myself, went back to dentist, in which case they said I need EXTRACTIONS (no, for REAL?) and another doctor's release.
- Screw it.
- Had baby.
- Procrastinated.
- Realized I had gallstones.
- Insurance screwed with me again.
- Took care of gallstones.
- Went to dentist, who took more x-rays, and referred me to a dental surgeon (since one of my wisdom teeth never came through).
- Procrastinated.
- Chipped one of the bastards, which turned into a jagged piece of pain.
- Tried setting up an appointment with the surgeon. Told that I can't be seen until JULY 10TH.
- Jagged tooth starts hurting more and more, so a few days later I cancel my appointment.
- I call around town looking for another surgeon that accepts my insurance.
- Apparently the one I just canceled an appointment for is the only one in the county who does.
After crying for a bit, I called my normal dentist and told them that I just wanted my effin teeth pulled already. So they promptly set me up an appointment. Once I get there, one of the dental assistants calls me up to tell me blatantly what I already know.
"We referred you to a dental surgeon."
I explained that I could NOT wait 2 months, as my teeth were hurting me. If by hurting I mean literally stabbing the inside of my cheek to the point of bloody soreness. She told me that if they pulled more than 1, then the surgeon would never accept me (something about "needing at least 3 teeth to pull otherwise the insurance won't work" or some crap like that). I thought about it for two seconds, then said I'd take the risk - as, by July 10th, I probably won't even be in CA anymore.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the dental chair. I had to sign a few forms, "in case of this," "in case of that," "in case of death," etc. I thought I was going to be put to sleep - which I pretty much always want to do as LITTLE as possible in this kind of situation - but I realized I was wrong. The dentist (I'll call him Dr. Payne) gave me 6 shots of numbing fluid - two on the upper left side of my mouth, two on the upper right side, and two on the bottom right. The shots HURT. And it's also when I realized I was not going to be out for this "major surgery". It was at that moment that I wished I would be put to sleep, after all.
But instead of complaining, I skimmed through People magazine while waiting for the numbing to take full affect. It didn't take long (I felt like I couldn't swallow), and a few minutes later Dr. Payne and his assistant rushed in and went right to work. My mouth was forced open so wide I almost thought that my jaw would unhinge. He started pulling the top molars first - I thought my chipped one was going to be the hardest, as it was...well, chipped. I figured it would be more difficult to get ahold of, and might even crumble if touched wrong. But it turned out to be the easiest one. I felt no pain at all as he used some tool to wrench it back and forth, loosening it. Though it didn't hurt, the pressure was killing my jawbone. The crackling noise it made in my head (it sounded like bone snapping slowly like a tree branch) was extremely disturbing. Then he took this plier-like instrument, and yanked it out.
He almost instantly went to work on the next one. Again, I felt no pain, but just knowing what was going on and HEARING it break inside was killing me. The taste of blood filling up my mouth was nearly as bad as the smell of it filling up my nose - if you've ever had the misfortune of being in a slaughterhouse, then you know this horrible, nauseating smell. The assistant kept putting the straw in my mouth to suction up all the blood. Each time she did that was like a silent reprieve. After this one was pulled, I realized my heart was pounding and I was shaking. But I was also laughing at how easy this actually was.
So I got ahead of myself. This was before Dr. Payne started to pull the last, bottom-right one. The one, that I would see very shortly, that the numbing anesthetic had not worked for.
Picking up his wrenching tool again, he set to work. He yanked back and forth trying to make it loose, and then tears suddenly spurt out of my eyes. Sharp pain had taken hold of me and shot from my jaw up into my brain like a bolt of electricity. I pushed my left hand in the air, as he told me to do if I felt any pain. He stopped and, without asking any questions, grabbed a syringe of more anesthetic. I was given another shot, and he went back to work. It still hurt, but I let him try loosening it a little more before I complained again. He said that we'd wait a bit for the numbness to take a better affect.
Dr. Payne and the assistant left the room for awhile, and I picked up the People magazine again, trying to stop my hands from shaking. The right side of my face did get a little more numb after a few minutes, and I thought it was good to go as the pain was fading significantly. When the doctor came back, he started to loosen it again. It still hurt, but not as bad, so I decided to not "say" anything this time. Then he grabbed his pliers and tried to yank it out.
I nearly screamed. Instead, I jolted in the chair, and then raised my left hand again. He didn't see it and just kept trying to pull it out, and I in turn almost poked his eyes out by shoving my left hand directly in front of his face. Then he stopped, and gave me yet another shot - this one on the other side of my gums, underneath the tongue. The memory hurts.
Another few minutes later, he started pulling again. The last shot made no significant different. Other than a numb tongue, numb lips, numb cheek - virtually numb everything OTHER THAN the tooth he was trying to pull out. I could have raised my hand yet again, but I was tired, frustrated, and just wanted this over with. So I decided to deal.
Embarassingly, tears were now streaming down of my face, to the point that the assistant had to continually wipe them up. But at the moment, I didn't care. All I could focus on was the pain, all I could feel was the pain. It hurt so bad that I can imagine myself in the form of a wild stallion, rolling its eyes around and snorting madly. But instead of bucking around in the chair, I was rigid. After a couple of minutes, Dr. Payne said, "You can relax now, it's out." I couldn't believe it. The pain still hurt so bad that I hadn't realized it had already been pulled. I let my grip on the arms of the chair go, and nearly laughed as I saw my palm prints indented in the plastic.
And then I breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. Finally. Yay. He had to stitch up the gum of the tooth he just pulled, because apparently it was infected so he had to yank out the roots, as well. Funnily, that part didn't hurt. I guess in contrast with the pain I just felt, almost nothing could phase me.
While he was stitching me up, I realized my throat was unbelievably dry and so I started coughing and hacking all over the place. I tried covering my mouth so it wouldn't get all over Dr. Payne's face, but then he couldn't see what he was doing. He had to stop three times so the assistant could spray water down my throat, before I could stop coughing.
Then we were all done. He said thank you, left, and then the assistant told me to lay there for a few minutes as she cleaned up. She promptly wiped up all the blood off of my face, off the tray, off the wall across the room, and so on. Then she went to get me an ice pack. She came back and I was dizzy beyond belief, and kind of out of it, so she made me stay sitting for a few minutes.
Then I left, picked up my three prescription painkillers, went home, and relaxed. I had to change the gauze in my mouth three times, and then again in the middle of the night, because it wouldn't stop bleeding. I was afraid to go to sleep with a bunch of gauze in my mouth, so I stayed up for an hour in the middle of the night so the bleeding would lessen. Today it doesn't hurt AS bad anymore (the top teeth that got pulled don't hurt at all - just the bottom numbless one).
But compared to how much it hurt yesterday, that's not saying much.
P.S. Looks like I'm back on my Cream-of-Wheat-like diet. Yuuum for pudding.