Are we sure that this was necessary?

Since I was 13, I have been told by dentists (yes, more than one) that I have plenty of room for my wisdom teeth, and it probably wouldn't be necessary to have them out. How does a girl take that comment, especially from more than one dentist? "Well, little lady, you seem to have a bigger mouth than the rest of the population, you should have plenty of room in there for four more large teeth, no problem!" I have wondered many times if that was a self-fulfilling prophecy, instead of just a random comment. As I have aged, my mouth seems to have taken on a mind of it's own, blurting out things I wish it didn't, eating things that I know it shouldn't have, and basically running amuck. Now those four teeth have gained so much control over the rest of the mouth that they have started throwing their weight around the space, and pushing others out of their way. Time to take action!

Last Thursday, I committed to the task of gaining control over my mouth. I know, it is probably a futile attempt, but at this point, it's worth a shot. I went in to the dentist for a "short" visit. From the evidence given from several x-rays, the entire removal process should have taken about an hour and a half at most. Little did I know just how badly those teeth wanted to stay where they were. They had control, and weren't giving it up easily. My appointment was at 1:00, and by 1:45, I was numb, had more x-rays taken, and had successfully given up my top two wisdom teeth. I was feeling happy that I didn't spend $750 to have IV sedation, because this was a cake walk. I was finally stronger than my mouth!

Then the trouble began. There was a revolutionary war going on with my lower jaw and the teeth that I wanted to have removed. Apparently, over the last 20 years, those two bottom teeth had formed their own alliance, and decided that they weren't going down without a fight! The next tooth took well over an hour to remove, and even then had to be removed in a few pieces. He was strong, that one, but not strong enough!

Then came the final battle, and it was an epic event! That last tooth hung on until it's last breath; even after the dividing of it's ranks, the root remained. Fatigue was setting in, and my anestesia had long since worn off, even after the second dose. I was told that they couldn't give me anything more for the pain, because of the risk of more permanent damage to the nerves. "Bring it on!" was my reply. Still, it would not be budged.

Soon, we had to call for reinforcements, because the dentist was faltering.When the reinforcement troops came to assist, even they were shocked. They had never seen such a willful tooth in all of their long years of experience. There was much weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth (literally, and mostly from the dentist), but finally, at 5:30 p.m., after much pushing, twisting, and extreme pain, the tooth was finally removed.

I wiped my eyes, because they were watering on their own, laughed a few times from relief, asked both dentists if they were ok because they seemed very upset (war does that to people) and attempted to remove my hands from the arm rests. I didn't seem to be able to let go; I'd just have to take the arm rests home with me, I guess, because those white knuckles weren't relaxing any time soon. I suppose there are casualties in any war.

The recovery that night was rough, my mouth was thankful that the offending teeth had been removed, but plenty of damage had been left in their wake. It was going to be some time before the mouth could work on it's own again, but luckily, there are things to calm the pain of it all. Really, really good things. Thank you, whoever invented oxycodone, my troops are extremely grateful.

I am telling you this tale just in case my mouth has ever offended any of you. You now have an understanding of the reality of my run-away mouth. It wasn't my fault, and in case it should occur in the future, please remember that the remaining teeth are fighting for control of the territory, much like the middle east. Please be forgiving. I am constantly struggling for control of it, sometimes losing more than I am winning, but at least I haven't quit the battle. I figure it takes until old age to gain that much control.

On the up side, property values are rising. I am hoping that I have more control now, my wisdom teeth have finally been removed and I am a smart mouth, no more. I know, wishful thinking.....