Wisdom Tooth Removal

As Mischa Barton's character in Sixth Sense says, "I'm feeling much better now..." after she throws up in Cole's tent. Granted I never threw up, but I am feeling much better. That quote was the first thing I could remember in describing my progress.

I'm filing this entry (and my previous entry "Cat Bite") in my 'Nervous' blog because, well, these past two weeks caused so much panic and anxiety, it's only fitting. And if similar situations happen to other panic-ees as mine have, I hope it helps. Although it does seem that things "only ever happen to me", which is why I write to make myself feel better, make sense of it, laugh at it, learn from it....... etcetera and so forth.

Looking back, it doesn't seem a big deal; however, a few days before the consult, I was terrified. Having panic attacks, I never know when I'm going to be "bad" or simply "a little nervous". Stress seems to have a mind of it's own when it comes to my body. The stress comes on full force a week after the cat bite ordeal, a heart rate of 142 at the doctor and a little over a week to pack and move across country.

The consult appointment, I went in trembling. I could not stop shaking. "You know this is only the consult, right?" I knew, but I was still terrified. At this point I wasn't even getting my wisdom tooth out. I had an infection in my back molar, which had already been worked on by my dentist - twice. it had a curved root, which ended up being a lost cause. I was also on antibiotics for a month between the tooth infection and the cat bite. When I finally went in to talk to the oral surgeon, he said "That wisdom tooth needs to come out, too. Okay, see you back here in two days."

I felt like I asked a million questions, but they never seemed fully answered to me. I mentioned, probably, fifty times that I had major panic. So I was prescribed two Valium an hour before surgery and one the night before. Nervously, I took a half a Valium the night before and one and a half the day of. For two days, though, I dreamed I would die, there would be complications or I'd develop an infection after.

I did great with the Valium. I was more worried about the $580 credit card charge we racked up right before moving. What a cluster that was. We couldn't find our credit card that wasn't expired..... we had to go home and find it and come back and transfer money and.... it was a nightmare. So once squared away with money, I go back to the room, sit down, give my weight and chat. The IV Sedation had to go in the opposite arm of the infected cat bite; I had already made sure of this per doctor's orders. I'm asked what pain meds I want, and I tell them the weakest one they have and next thing I know, I'm waking up.

I don't remember anything past chatting with the nurse, but recall waking up with double vision. I remember crying because I had double vision. What I don't remember is shaking violently to where my husband thought I developed Parkinson's. I asked if it was okay to cry and then asked my husband to take a picture of me. Again - this I do not remember. See the lovely photo below:

After surgery I asked a million questions, all the same question. I got home and felt great. I felt great the next day, mopping the floor, cleaning, packing, etc. It was the third, fourth and fifth day that I felt horrible. I took two pain pills (out of 16), but they made my nose itchy, so I ended up just taking Motrin. The office said the third day is usually the worst, which it was. I lost 5 pounds and even managed to pack our moving truck with the help of ONE friend and my husband ONE week after my surgery.

It sounds easy, what I went through, and I guess it was - to normal people. To me, it was the end of the world, and I was terrified. Put it this way, I have to have another wisdom tooth out (it's inflamed) and I'm equally terrified.

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