August 21, 2009

Wisdom Teeth? Who needs ‘em?

Yesterday afternoon, I got my wisdom teeth pulled. I had planned on either never getting them taken out (because they are just fine) or getting them out later. However, the dentist discovered a painless cavity and suggested that we either get it filled or pulled.

The actual procedure was more or less the best part. I wasn’t put to sleep but had local anesthetic and laughing gas (nitrous oxide). The laughing gas was awful because it felt the same as “coming to” after passing out, which is not only very painful in your hands and feet, but also made me panic. It worked well when I wasn’t hyperventilating and in the end the whole appointment only lasted about half an hour and I got out with no stitches or swelling. 

Sadly, that’s only part one.

Day one on my pain medication was just fine. I felt super tired but didn’t have any pain. Today was a different story, though. I threw up several times trying to eat my high-fat food that would help keep the Vicodin down and ended up losing the fight. Now I’m using ibuprofen and trying to sleep off the remainder of the Vicodin. It’s for the best. I’m much too busy to not be able to do things like drive, take care of myself and concentrate (or best of all, eat).

I’m quite bored and sick of being sick (I started off the week with nausea and puking). It’ll be a nice change of pace in a couple of days when I feel better.

3 comments:

ramsam said...

At least you feel good enough to type! impressive....

I love the laughing gas, but hate pain meds. Sleep is the best of all. Mmmmm.
I love sleep.

Hillary said...

It is pretty impressive. I don't know how anyone could be addicted to that stuff. I couldn't even handle 12 hours of it…and as far as I can tell it didn’t make me feel any different, other then the sleeping and not being able to keep my food down.

FitToSeeJane said...

I felt so bad for you. That never ending nausea is worse than an aching jaw I think. But I'm sure by now you are sick of every soft food that looked good before.
You're a trooper.
Love you, sweetie!
(sorry, mushy mom stuff).