After going on about my upcoming wisdom tooth extraction for an entire post I thought it would be only fair to let you know that I am ok. I survived it. It was not a pleasant experience but now that it is over I wonder why I spent days worrying about something that lasted 20 minutes tops.

My anxiety about the procedure did not lessen after my post on Saturday, instead it reached its head on the way into the hospital, when my legs were shaking so badly that I fell while climbing the stairs. The rest of the way my boyfriend had to hold me by the arm. Luckily I could not get any more worried, because otherwise the moment they told me to put on a hospital gown might have caused me to faint. I thought this was just about teeth? Why do I need a gown? The 1 hour wait for the doctor, who was doing his rounds (a dentist doing rounds, how many patients can he have?) calmed me down a little. Perhaps it will never happen my subconscious told me soothingly. But finally a nurse came and wheeled me away in my chair. A few floors up I was made to wait for another 5 minutes. While sitting there I got the urge to steal some of the surgeon’s caps and other material that was lying in boxes on a table. It was a bit like being in Grey’s Anatomy. But unfortunately I had nowhere to put it because of the gown. I also noticed a sign on a fridge containing blood, which said in bold angry letters: !!!!!grrrrrrr!!!! remember to close the fridge door after use!!!! That made me feel relieved that I was not receiving blood, although it did not make me feel particularly hopeful about my treatment.

In the end another nurse came and wheeled me into the surgery, and after telling me to lie down on the table she proceeded to put a finger pulse oximeter on my finger to measure my heart rate. At this my heart rate went into an panicked and erratic beat, and to my embarrassment this was announced to all present by a beep for each beat. After the arrival of the doctor, who told me we were removing two teeth (I thought it was only one!), I was further alarmed as a paper was placed over my head, allegedly to protect me from the bright light. The paper had a hole for my mouth but otherwise all I could see was hospital green. I wanted headphones, not eye-covering! This was the moment the doctor’s telephone rang. Is he supposed to have a telephone with him in surgery? And to my horror he answered! He told the person on the other line to call back later since he was in surgery. In my minds eye I saw him holding the phone. And since I was in what was clearly a surgery, I applied surgery standards. Will he scrub in again, after touching the bacteria-infected phone? To my disappointment there was no sound of scrubbing.

The most painful part, as expected, was the injection of the anesthetic. This seemed to go on forever, as the doctor did a thorough job by injecting me about 10 times. While we were waiting for the anasthetic to work the phone rang again, and again he answered with the same message. Then he started discussing the frequency of telephone calls on Mondays with the nurses. While still complaining about how busy Mondays are he began working, pushing and pulling, stretching my poor mouth this way and that until all of a sudden there was a tooth on the loose in my mouth. I heard him saying something to the nurses about removing the tooth before I swallowed it… Luckily they got it out before I choked on it (what a pathetic way to die that would have been) and proceeded to the other tooth which did not take much longer. Since I did not feel anything or see anything I had no idea what was happening, but soon enough it was all over and I was being wheeled out of surgery again. On the way back down I was given a ridiculous looking ice-pack that wrapped around my head and since the nurse told me my make-up had spread I imagined myself looking quite appalling (and later, in the car mirror I saw that I had blood smears around my mouth). First my boyfriend looked worried but he soon had to smile while I waved my hands around and said things like ‘oongh a oog iiiuongh’ trying to express how ridiculous I felt.

Well, the ice pack is off, and while I am still in pain I did manage to write this post which is a good sign. And my boyfriend reassured me that probably a nurse held the phone to the doctor’s ear, which makes sense, especially since I heard him tell a nurse that the phone was in his pocket before he answered…

And most importantly, I barely heard anything during the procedure. Neither the softly crunchy sound of the needle going in nor the crackly crunchy sound of teeth coming out. There were no headphones but somehow my wishes were fulfilled. I will make sure to make more wishes in the future. Like, please let us win Euromillions tonight! Who knows…

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