There will be blood

But not in this blog entry as although the photos are kind of cool in a weird and twisted way, I guess they're not entirely blog-appropriate and I don't want people suing me for if they faint and hit their heads on their keyboards.

The short of it: The wisdom tooth blogged about previously was extracted by the dentist today.

The long of it: I was terrified!

And being terrified takes more time than wisdom tooth extraction.

This morning I rang the dentist when they opened and thankfully they had a space they could fit me in this afternoon. Hallelujah! This was definitely a good thing as more of the tooth had come off since I wrote about it last and I was in pain. PAIN. PAAAAAAAAAIN. I was even in so much pain that I went to the dentist wearing a hoodie, semi-formal skirt and thongs. See what pain does to my mind!??!

It also made me announce, "Drugs! My favourite!" while at the bus stop going through my bag and discovering a packet of Tramadol I'd put in there. It makes people stare. And it would just be more awkward to say, "I have wisdom tooth pain, too little sleep and no food since yesterday afternoon!"

But pain's never what we expect it to be.

Currently, the space where the wisdom tooth was hurts about as much as it did before it was removed. And yet I was irrationally terrified when my dentist told me he thought it'd be simpler and safest to extract it right there and then. I wanted to be sedated! Where was my sedation for removal?! This was not what I planned!

So I spent some time dithering, trying to avoid the pain I'd been told by others was akin to giving birth through your jaw. The fear uncurled from my stomach until I was gripping the arm rests of the dentist's chair like I'd just been informed I had to captain the 'plane because the captain and co-pilot had chicken a la salmonella for lunch and the flight attendant crew all had no arms.

It had to be done. My Mum told me to "Be sensible." But the horror stories! Oh, the cheery way in which people share them! Tales of how it hurt so bad and their faces looked like they'd gone through a few rounds with Mike Tyson in a good mood.

Anyway.

The noise was the worst part. That sound of crushing, crunching tooth that echos up into your skull as the tooth is bashed about to loosen it before it's removed. And you know what? I didn't even feel it when he pulled it out.

Sadly, I didn't get to keep the tooth. I asked, but apparently because of blood-borne diseases and so on, things like that have to be disposed of. But I'm clean and it wasn't like I was going to be making anyone try to fit it in their mouth.

Maybe just make a nice necklace decoration with it...

Just joking!

As I left, the dentist was coming back into the surgery and I apologised for being such a scaredycat and thanked him for doing the work. He made some joking comment about enjoying the fear he instilled in me and I would have laughed more heartily were it not for the fact that my mouth was crammed with gauze and bleeding merrily.

On a more cheerful note:


I bought these to cheer myself up after having the tooth yanked out. I'm rather loving anthuriums. A bit phallic, but eh. Why not. The florists and I ended up having a 20 minute conversation about teeth, dentists, whether or not they're that scary, injections, etc.