Wisdom Teeth Meet Idiot Surgeon

The topic of a good friend’s son having his wisdom teeth removed reminded me of my own experiences with this routine surgical procedure. I was about 16 or so. One significant memory of the event occurred the day after the surgery. I had eaten ice cream and taken pain killers while I patiently awaited the end of the Novocain’s effects, and the return of sensation to my gums and lips. (I was missing the ability to speak clearly instead of mumbling incoherent gibberish as if I’d had my cheeks surgically sewn onto my gums.)

It was only the following morning, once the anesthetic had plenty of time to run it’s course, that I started wondering why my speaking was not back on par. That, and the fact that one side of my mouth hurt more then the other side, prompted me to go check things out in the bathroom mirror. And guess what I found? They’d sewn my cheek onto my gum. literally. There was stitching in the gum that had crossed over and been threaded through the inner flesh of my cheek.

It was more frustrating then anything else. What kind of clod would sew a kids cheek to his gum? I was in no mood to go back and hassle with it being addressed by so-called “Professionals”, so I dug up a pair of small sewing scissors, and I methodically cut the cheek free while leaving the rest of the stitches in place to heal as expected. That was my one “McClane” moment.

Of course the Vicodin helped. :-)


Written by gsm

02/16/2007 at 8:08 am

Posted in  Journal 

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