It was the second day of spring break and everything was fine. It was very pretty and beautiful until I was in the doctor’s office. I was getting my wisdom teeth pulled. Usually you get them removed when you’re seventeen or eighteen, but mine were about to come out. At thirteen. “You’re going to be fine,” said the nurse with a touch of sincerity. “Oh rea— then I was out.
Because I was so groggy when I woke up, I didn’t notice that I was in a wheelchair. Big mistake. Big time. Fortunately the surgeon managed to save me from falling out. Stepping out of the car— wow, that was pretty hard. I had to have both of my parent to lift me out and we had to go up a staircase that seemed to have no end. You would obviously want to be me. During my spring break I battled pain, clashes meds, and suffered boredom.
My mouth felt like it was in an everlasting ring of fire. It BURNED! The pain overcame the medicine. I wanted it to be over. Blood kept dripping out of my mouth like water out of a faucet. Splat, drip, drip, drip, splat. Another gauze gone; more to be refilled. The blood never stopped. If the the blood was a car on a road, it would never stop on a red light. I was so frustrated that the only way to stop the blood was to put a gauze in it. Fortunately, it stopped later that night.
After five gruesome days of brutality, grogginess, and overall horribleness, I couldn’t tolerate it. I started to become super crazy. “Mom I need medicine!” I yelled. ” You just had it a minute ago.” she yelled back. Yup, that was how it was the whole week. Getting wisdom teeth removed is worse torture than getting an ear chopped off. Van Gogh, can you hear me?
The good thing about the pain was that I ate a lot of ice cream. Jello, jello, jello, and more jello. That’s all I ate. Dessert for a meal? You must be crazy! No I’m not crazy: I’m hurt. There’s a fine line between crazy and genius. Once I slurped down my medicine, I would eat jello or any soft food. What isn’t good about eating dessert three times a day? (That was a rhetorical question. Please don’t be a hater and say desert is bad for you.)
Thankfully my mouth doesn’t hurt now. Three weeks post operation and I feel as great as a man who won a small jackpot. Actually my experience was only bad for a few days. The rest were actually pretty good. I wouldn’t say I want to do it again, but I wasn’t as bad as I thought. Hopefully if your wisdom teeth are pulled, it won’t be as bad as my experience.