My Spinning Plates

I hadn’t planned this, but I discovered one great way to break up the monotony of winter is to have my wisdom teeth taken out.

I was born without lower wisdom teeth and my upper ones have been in for years with no problems. The only issues I had with them were that they were basically useless since they didn’t have a matching set to grind against. They were also the place where any fibrous bit of veggie or gristly bit of meat would hide. (Not so much hide as wedge itself in tightly and force me to attempt delicate maneuvers with floss without accidentally swallowing my hand.)

Around Christmas, my teeth began to rebel. They hurt and they were making the rest of my mouth hurt. A little tricky work with a mirror and a flashlight revealed the little bastards were turning outward for no good reason. I simmered in my pain for about a week then set about trying to find a dentist. I hadn’t been to a dentist since Gracie was a baby, mostly because the dentist I had gone to for one visit had a racist receptionist. Really? I live in the South. I hear it enough without having to pay someone so I can hear it some more.

Unfortunately, it was the time of year when dentists take off for the holidays and I was getting desperate. I had gotten to the point of googling “how to remove my own wisdom teeth” (btw, even the internet thinks that’s a bad idea). Paul suggested Aspen Dental. I was able to make a same-day appointment online. I was a happy camper, except for the fact that I actually had to go to the dentist.

It wasn’t all bad. After x-rays, I made the joyous discovery that there was a little TV right in front of the exam chair that I could control. Add that to the list of places where I can watch HGTV. (Right under “on vacation.” It’s a short list.)

The dentist agreed that my teeth were of no use and they had to go. Off I went to the manager’s office for a financial consultation. She told me my options: I could have them pulled that week with local anesthesia or I could wait for the dental surgeon who could put me in a “twilight state.” (I think that means they give you enough drugs that an emaciated boy who sparkles in the sunlight starts to look attractive. That’s a lot of drugs.) However, the dental surgeon wouldn’t be around until the end of the month. I opted for local anesthesia because I figured it couldn’t be any worse than the one painkiller and a pair of pliers plan I had been considering.

She pulled up the cost and said, “Simple extraction. This is going to run you $675.”

“Fine.”

“Oh, your insurance was just processed. Make that $40.”

“Whew!”

Yay for a man with dental insurance. Also, yay for a man who will take off early from work to watch the kids in a waiting room.

I have never, ever had a cavity, so I have never had to suffer anything more than a cleaning at the hands of a dentist. Also, I’m not a big fan of needles. I was a nervous wreck. Luckily, I had my phone with me so I could text Paul.

Me: BP 78/50

Paul: You might be a zombie.

Me: I’m also drooling on myself. The transformation is nearly complete.

Paul: You are constantly hungry and ready to cause pain at a moment’s notice.

Me: Dude, I nearly passed out during the shots. Now I’m all shaky. I’m such a wuss.

Once the anesthesia kicked in, I felt no pain. The whole yanking-things-out-of-my-skull process went very smoothly and I was happily out of the office and driving myself home.

Downsides:

• Mouthful of gauze
• Liquid diet
• Limited activity for two days

Upsides

• Limited activity for two days
• My kids are big enough to take care of most of their own needs and some of mine. Wesley went from making sandwiches for lunch to asking me if I needed another protein shake or a drink of water. I was spoiled.

I spent two days lying on the couch while the kids watched PBS documentaries. The appropriateness of the documentaries was inversely proportional to the amount of painkillers in my bloodstream. Let’s just say that they know a lot more about the difficulty of childbirth in rural India than they should.