Last Tuesday I got my wisdom teeth removed. The procedure is not news: 85% of people get them removed during a lifetime. I even have some older friends at school who had already gotten them removed during the school year. Nevertheless, the popularity of the procedure still failed to abate my fear of surgeries.
I don’t like needles. Furthermore, I had never been put to sleep by anesthesia before. For a week before the surgery, I kept wondering what would happen the anesthesia didn’t work on me. I could almost imagine myself sitting on the dental chair 30 minutes after the injection still happily chatting with the doctors, their heads shaking, wondering why I wasn’t falling asleep. Gracefully, this didn’t happen. I think I was out in about 15 seconds.
While the surgery itself passed as if it never happened, recovery has been more painful and real. I’ve been taking penicillin 4 times a day, every six hours since my surgery. This requires a dosage early in the morning. My mom has been guiding me every step of the way through my recovery. I’m thankful for my her for waking up each morning at 6 AM to bring those 2 mLs of bitter red liquid and a chilled glass of water to bed so that I can sleep in. I am thankful for my mom for cutting the watermelon into smaller chunks so that I could consume it more easily. I’m thankful for my mom for talking with me as I sat in the bathroom with a hot towel on my bruised jaw. Thank you, Mom, for making my recovery that much more smooth.
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