Spending my night drinking wine I’ve mixed with vitamin C, and watching American Werewolf in London with actor commentary. This is how I make myself feel better.
They decided to do the extraction with local anesthetic instead of putting me under. The x-rays implied that it would be a simple procedure, with both teeth having only one root and growing upwards out of the gums. I totally understand why they used local. Unfortunately, the x-rays were hiding something sinister.
The tooth on my left side had not one root, like a normal wisdom tooth, but three. The right side was even worse, with a corkscrew root. The dentist literally had to untwist it from my jaw. I’m sure this isn’t totally uncommon, but it was certainly not the easy, mess free procedure predicted.
Here’s where I start to question my dentist’s practice. Apparently, I wasn’t in need of prescription painkillers.
“Do you have a prescription I need to fill?” I asked.
“No,” said the kind dental assistant. “Just go buy some Ibuprofen and Tylenol and take it together.”
After recovering from two wisdom teeth extractions with only Ibuprofen, I no longer fear death, or childbirth, or loss, or pain. I welcome it with gritted teeth and a piercing stare. I can endure.
I don’t know what it was, but I suspect that the combination of a million Ibuprofen and Tylenol in a stomach of pure chicken broth and pudding led me to puke so much that night. I puked once an hour, every hour between 2am and noon the next day. When asked about it, the dental assistant said I must have had the flu. Funny, though, I developed no other symptoms.
And that’s how I spent my Valentines Day.
On the bright side, my left socket healed freakishly fast. When I went for a check up between pukes, the dental assistant said that it looked like a week of recovery after one day. There’s still a gaping hole on the right side of my face, and I hope that whatever the hell I can in it is, as the dentist said, part of the healing process. He didn’t look at it, though. He just had me describe it to him on the phone. Should I trust him?
Is proving to be very difficult.
- Student 1: Will you add me on Facebook?
- Me: Ha! No way.
- Student 1: Why not?
- Me: It's inappropriate, and creepy on my part. Plus, aren't you 12?
- Student 1: Yeah. So what?
- Me: Well, Facebook terms and conditions say that you have to be 13 to join. You're not even legally old enough to be on Facebook.
- Student 2: Pfft, we've had Facebooks since we were in the 5th grade.
- Me: Looks like we've got a bunch of rebels.
Can anyone tell me of some cool yet school appropriate Spanish language music to add to my class playlist? I know at least one kid felt left out, and that is not cool with me.