The Extraction

In the winter of 2004, Sexy Boyfriend and I both found out we had to get our wisdom teeth taken out. As I was still in school and had Spring Break coming up, I volunteered to go first.

I already have serious anxiety about going to the dentist. Not so much that I break down or cry when I have to go there, but enough that all of my muscles tense up from the moment I sit in the chair until I walk out the front door. I have also never seen the needle they use to inject the freezing cause I keep my eyes cemented shut.

My dentist doesn't seem to believe in making The Extraction as easy as possible. He got me to show up half an hour early for pre-medication, which was Ativan, and which I didn't find that relaxing. When he came out a half hour later to ask if I was relaxed, I said "No, not really" with every muscle in my body contracted, tapping my feet to non-existent music. He gave me another Ativan, and brought me into the room to get ready for The Extraction.

He said I would feel sleepy, but I never did. He said I wouldn't remember anything, but I do. He's such a mean big liar. A lot of people I know say their dentists actually put them to sleep for The Extraction. That they woke up and it was over, and all was wonderful in the world. But not my dentist. He just makes sure you are "relaxed", which I wasn't, then he goes about his freezing and drilling and cracking and pulling. It's not like there was any pain, or discomfort even, but just the anxiety of the whole situation was SO unpleasant.

After all four teeth were thoroughly extracted, I went out to the waiting room and waited while they called Sexy Boyfriend to come pick me up. I was very thirsty, so I went into the little bathroom to take a cup of water. Suddenly, standing there, my mouth felt like it was full of cotton, which is wasn't, but I just couldn't get enough water. I took a few careful sips, but I just felt more thirsty. So I tipped the little cup back. Then I practically choked to death. Because of all the freezing, I couldn't judge how much water was in my mouth. I had thought that the fact I was getting any water in my mouth at all instead of dribbling it down my chest was pretty good, but I forgot about how much water I was actually getting in there. I started to cough, tried to hold it in, but you know when you get that little tickle in your throat, and it just won't go away, and your cough becomes uncontrollable? That was the problem. So I coughed, and all that water in my mouth sprayed all over that tiny little bathroom sink, and it was mixed with blood from The Extraction. I know, gross, gross, but even in the moment I saw that it was one of the funniest things that has ever happened to me.

I managed to sop it all up, or at least my drug altered brain saw it as sopped up, maybe I left huge splotches everywhere, hell if I know. Then they knocked on the door to tell me Sexy Boyfriend was there.

On the way home we chatted about how it went - more like he asked one question then I rambled on and on cause I find it funny how your voice sounds when your mouth is frozen. At one point a song I knew came on the radio, and I started to sing. To this day Sexy Boyfriend thinks I was singing cause of my altered state, but really it's because I find the Frozen Mouth Voice absolutely hilarious.

My Masochist Dentist also decided to let me leave the office without a pain prescription. He said that Advil would be enough. He lied. I have never experienced pain like this. Just a constant, dull, throbbing pain that wouldn't let me sleep, wouldn't let me concentrate, wouldn't let me get off the sofa. I have never taken so much Advil in my life. But the worst part was the stitches. He had hooked the stitches around my back molars, and they began to pull and tighten. So not pleasant.

I spent a good week on the sofa, writhing in pain. I had them out on Monday, and only went back to work on Saturday, still eating partially or fully softened foods like oatmeal, french fries, milkshakes, etc.

All of this to say that Sexy Boyfriend still has not gotten his out yet. It has been almost two years, and my chipmunk-cheeked episode seems to have disuaded him from having The Extraction. Even when he gets little bouts of pain so bad he can't eat, he still puts it off. My mission is to get him to the dentist in the month of November.

We will not be leaving the office without a pain meds prescription.