Taking My Precious

This past Monday, I went in for surgery to have my two remaining wisdom teeth taken out. For almost twenty years now, I’ve been the petulant child at the check-out lane in the grocery store who attempts to sneak a candy bar by mom; “Oh, you said put the king sized Snickers back?” Cue wailing and tantrum throwing. “These teeth here….the ones that I’ve had since my teens, the ones that are now growing in sideways and cause “occasional” pain, they ones that “could” cause “problems” later on “down the line”….they have to come out? You know you’re not the first dentist to share this earth-shattering revelation with me, right? I mean, I understand you think they should come out, but come on, that doesn’t necessarily mean they have to.


My wisdom teeth = The One Ring.

MY PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSS…yesssssss…third molarssess. Stinking dentistsess wants to takes Gollum’s precioussssssss! We hatesess stinking dentistsess and filthy dry socketsssesssss! [loud coughing and hacking noises]

End scene.

In spite of the anxiety I experienced beforehand, when all was said and done, the operation went off without a hitch. I haven’t suffered any ill effects from having undergone twilight sedation. The pain was minimal (thanks painkillers!) and my loving and oh-so-caring wife took multiple videos of me in recovery, which became comedic gold to me after the anesthesia wore off. I took an extra day off to recover and was back in the office on Wednesday. I’m trying to not go overboard on eating anything too sharp, crunchy, overly spicy, etc. that could irritate or injure the extraction sites, but so far, so good.

Anybody else have any funny or traumatic experiences around wisdom teeth extraction?


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