I have been quite fortunate throughout my life in the sense that I’ve never broken a bone, no concussion, nada. I’m not a klutz. I’m calm, cool and collected (pause for laughter).
But the one thing. The ONE thing that I was not blessed with were the immensely impacted wisdom teeth. Thanks Mom. Thanks Dad. You ruined me.
Today marks the one year anniversary of my wisdom teeth removal. And usually, people use anniversaries to celebrate a milestone in their lives. Celebration. Yeah right.
To say that that procedure, recovery and experience was the most painful thing I have ever gone through in my entire life is an understatement.
So, for the sake of my one year anniversary, I will be sharing my experience and providing you with in depth footage and detail. You are welcome in advance.
The week before the surgery, my sister and I were in Chile with our friend. It’s like it was our last supper before the electric chair. One last hoorah. One last hoorah filled with very attractive people, my future husband and great food.
The day before the surgery, my family and I went to go see the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team. Another last hoorah.
Ironically enough, I can’t remember my actual last supper. I would imagine it to be dumplings or Chinese food of some sort, because duh. What else would it be?
The surgery itself took less than a half hour. But I was out cold for awhile. I was completely put under. Out like a light, if you will. Refer to the footage in the gallery I am providing down below. I have tried to make my videos go viral. Ellen. If you are somehow reading this blog, please put me on your show.
Somehow I got home, jamming out to Bruno Mars while playing with my tongue and chubby face, and that was the beginning of my 10 day stretch at home. I didn’t feel fresh air on my face for 10 days. I simply couldn’t go outside. I was ashamed. I was distraught. I cried when I looked in the mirror. Don’t tell me I’m being dramatic. I was truly a sight for sore eyes.
I was THE living and breathing Snapchat filter that made your face a block.
I was fine for the first few hours and then it hit me. I needed meds. But of course, me being the weak link that I am, can’t hold down pain medication. I turned green and pale and nauseous. So, Advil it was.
The amount of ice cream I ate made it so I don’t want to ever eat it again. Mashed potatoes, I don’t even like, but that became a hot commodity. Orzo pasta, GoGo squeeZ and more. I cried all the time. I was in so much pain. My face was so fat so it hurt to cry. IT HURT TO CRY.
I couldn’t brush my teeth. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t do anything but cry. It’s like I went through a Benjamin Button situation where I reverted back to being a baby for 10 days.
A week later, just when I thought I was getting better, I woke up the morning of my senior musical - the day that my big break was going to happen in the theater world - with a fat face . Well, significantly less fat than before, but noticeably more fat than it should’ve been. My dad insisted that we go to the doctor.
I had an infection in both sides of my mouth. They had to basically re-open my sockets and drain all the yummy stuff that was leaking from them.
The bafoon of the doctor that I had that time, different than the one who performed the surgery, was like “Oh wow. An infection on both sides? There’s a 7% chance of that happening.”
THANKS. THANKS SO MUCH.
I missed the matinée but made it for the last performance. Obviously the show couldn’t go on without me, aisle dancer #52.
Once I finally recovered a month later, I was finally bouncing back to my normal self. I was back to work, putting cans of soda on my face, back to school, talking less than usual because of the pain, but I was suddenly sick all the time.
I am convinced that they took my immune system with the teeth. Without my consent. I was no joke sick on and off from March to August.
Am I any less smarter now that my wisdom have been forcefully (and not to mention awfully executed) taken away from me? That’s a heavily debated topic, one that I don’t have time to discuss right now. I would say yes and no. But definitely yes.
Kids. Do not. And I mean DO NOT get your wisdom teeth out. Suffer through the pain. Get dentures. Rip them out yourselves if you have to. But do NOT go get them done.
They will botch your surgery and then make you come back for another procedure where they tell you you should’ve been washing out your sockets with the plastic syringe they never gave you in the first place all the while attempting to make small talk with you while your mouth is being cut apart.
Sorry, Megan isn’t available to talk right now, please leave a message and she’ll try to get back to you after you’re done with HER surgery.
