The Extraction

The worst part about sitting in the dentist's chair this time wasn't the long needle delivering the novocaine, nor the crunching-grinding sound made by the pliers on my wisdom tooth. Although that sound alone, amplified within the confines of my head, was enough to drive me crazy. Not even the attempt to overstretch my jaws to an almost snake-like width in order to yank out the tooth compared to what really bothered me. For this particular extraction, the constant talk from my dentist on earlier visits about the tooth's placement directly on top of the nerve, the fact that the root had a small hook which appeared to ensnare the root, the potential for permanent nerve damage causing numbness to jaw, cheek and other parts of the face -- that all worried me more than any possible pain from the procedure itself. When the dentist entered the home stretch (pun intended) and my jaw was pushed open farther than it ever had, I clenched shut my eyes, gripped the arm rests and thought of nothing but the oncoming permanent paralysis.

Fortunately, none of that has appeared yet. My cheek, tongue and jaw are slowly emerging from their novocaine-induced sleep.

Before leaving the dentist's office, he showed me the tooth. Much bigger than I thought it would be, and that little hook at the tip of the root -- the part so close to the nerve -- was intact. He'd maneuvered the pliers and the tooth well enough to bypass the root altogether and didn't resort to breaking the tooth, leaving the root tip in my jaw. Thank goodness.

Now the gaping hole is temporarily filled with gauze, and I filled the prescription for 800g Motrin which should send me to La-La Land if necessary.

I could sure use some ice cream....