In Laman's terms [what about Lemuel's terms?], I had my wisdom teeth taken out. I'll add pictures to this post later, but for right now I'll just tell you the harrowing tale...with some exaggerated harrow, since it really wasn't that bad.
The week preceding the procedure was my usual busy hustle and bustle life, full of far too much Theatrical Involvement, homework, and general worry about the rending of my cranium. However, by the time the day of deliverance arrived, I was ready to spend a couple of days out of comission.
I arrived at the office at about 11. After haggling with the receptionist lady about payment options, I went back and was informed of my painlessness options. In addition to local anathesia, they said I had the option of laughing gas, but that the procedure really didn't necesitate it. Since I'm not one for feeling pain whilst being operated on, I opted for the gas.
Once I was all drugged and happy, the good doctor and assistant drilled and filled my very minor cavities before embarking on the conquest of my more intelligent teeth. Still coherent, I watched as numerous shiny instruments made grand entrances and exits from my gaping piehole. I was surprised how "with it" I was, since the last time I'd had laughing gas was a time of stumbling, giggling, and dancing.
The moment of truth followed in a timely manner, which suited me just fine--I only wished I could have been asleep. All I wanted was to take a nap, but I guess I had gotten adequate sleep the night before because I was wide awake and watchful as the good doctor wrenched the smartest teeth I'll ever have from my submissive head.
45 minutes later, the deed is done...and I'm still completely coherent. Wait a second, aren't I supposed to be a jibbering monkey for the next or so? Apparently not. Fat-faced, maybe, but ridiculous, not so much. This surprised Nadin and Becca a great deal, since they expected to cart an imebicilic version of my former self back to our apartment. Looks like I squashed that party!
The rest of the experience is now a distant memory of pills and not enough solid food, so I'll get right to the goods and show you the pictures...
Day One: Slightly Bloody, but Not Too Bad
Day 2: The Stay-Puft resemblance began to come through a little more...
Day 3: We needed to go grocery shopping...
I stopped the pictures after this, since my misshapen hunk of face had started to upset me by then. Rest assured that I am now back to normal...and not SO monkeyish as before.
