And it’s horrible. Right now my lower lip is completely numb and my face is completely lopsided — grotesquely swollen on the right and almost normal on the left — so that I look like half a hamster. It’s a scary sight: in a way it’s worse than looking like, well, a whole hamster. At least I know what half of me would look like if I moved to Albuquerque and ate KFC for a year.
I totally hate my dentist for persuading me that I had to subject myself to this misery. Ten grand for the op excluding hospital fees and who knows how much of that will be picked up by the medical aid. Two admissions to hospital in five months after years of being dutifully healthy and not making claims: Discovery must really love me. I really thought I would get away with not having to get it done but apparently there was no escaping it. Having your wisdom teeth out seems to be a rite of passage for most adults, and everyone has to put up with the chipmunk cheeks, painkillers and antibiotics afterwards.
Apparently, my case was not an easy one. The maxillofacial surgeon — who had a King Daavid accent and made a cynical remark about marriage when I told him I needed to not look like a complete freak at my sister’s wedding at the end of the month and therefore needed to get this done sooner rather than later — told me rather reproachfully that my teeth were impacted and therefore it was going to be difficult to get them out. “The other patient before you, I could just flick them out. You’re much more difficult. But that’s not your problem, that’s my problem,” he told me as I lay there in my green gown and awful blue plastic undies under the lights in the operating theatre — real hospitals are always so much less glamorous than Grey’s Anatomy.
I felt as though I should apologise for not being considerate enough to possess molars that were easy to rip out. There was a brief moment of misunderstanding between us when I acknowledged that my lips were as dry as the Kalahari and he thought I was talking about calamari — but then the anaesthetist started pumping the most awful burning substance into my left hand and I passed out. When I woke up later I was gripped by a sense of utter despair and started sobbing. The nurse told me that this is a common reaction to the anaesthetic, which was a relief, since sobbing in a state of utter despair is something I do on a regular basis anyway, and it’s nice to have an excuse other than the ongoing existential crisis for once.
The info sheet they sent me home with warned about possible permanent nerve damage. I was also informed that the swelling would be worst on the third day and I was not to blow my nose for a week (something I’ve already done several times without thinking). For two days I was officially a mouth breather (such a pity I couldn’t find a cousin to marry and a trailer to live in). They didn’t say anything about the swelling extending down one’s neck into the shoulder, and one’s skin making a funny noise when you press it, but presumably that’s all normal too. I hope that bit about the permanent nerve damage doesn’t apply to me. You have no idea how difficult it is to apply lip-gloss neatly when half of your mouth is paralysed.
Of course, the important thing is that I am now wisdom-teeth free and no longer need to worry about them. I’ve often wondered why we have these things, since, like the appendix, they appear to serve no adaptive purpose and only cause trouble. The theory is that our ancestors did a lot more chewing of plant food and needed every molar they could get. As we shifted to a diet that included meat and cooked food, our brains became larger and jaws smaller, and the wisdom teeth effectively became vestigial, pushed out of the way and ignored until they started to erupt. (So there you have it: the braai effectively made us smarter. Boerewors, despite a multitude of evidence to the contrary, is brain food.)
A month ago, I had no idea I’d be walking around with four empty sockets in my jaw and having to reconcile myself with bearing a distressing resemblance to a large rodent. So I’m gritting my teeth, grinning and bearing it, etc etc, even though those things are completely metaphorical, since right now, of course, I’m incapable of doing either.
Seriously, you are not the only one. That was the worst few weeks of my life. If I had to choose between childbirth and that operation, it’s a baby all the way!
As we ‘evolve’ more people are being born who will never have wisdom teeth.
Or is that as we get more dof :rotfl:
Btw I also had all 4 out at once, not pleasant at all.
Try a R 27 000.00 dentist bill. No medical aid, and they want the money upfront.
Im in the wrong profession
The Praetor
All 4 – R350.00 & drinking whiskey (with an e) by sundown. Eish (it’s Ash)!
Got mine taken out at the Royal Dental School by students. They were great but it took 4 months and differently swollen cheeks which sometimes meant I couldn’t eat at all. Also all under local so felt each tug! These things do pass – wish you well soonest
I have a cousin or two to spare if you’d like one (postage extra, T&C apply).
Mine got pulled out under local anaesthetics by the army dentist when I was doing national service. I got three whole days “light duty”, which was fantastic. And it was free.
Caryn, I don’t know whether I’d say it was the worst time of my life, I had my tonsils out when I was about 25, that was plain AWFUL!
Craig, where and when did you have yours done? I think mine was a gewone dentist but I can’t remember how much it cost. I’m sure the medical aid paid it all though.
Shame Sarah, we all feel with you. Not nice ! Seriously though : post us your chipmunk photo, come on
A week before, my left cheek was swollen out of this world. A week of antibiotics, the op and my right cheek was swollen out of this world.
There’s something about work on the mouth that’s never pleasant, but I wouldn’t want to repeat any of the ops I’ve had, thank you.
Of course, at lease the wisdom teeth ended there; the caesar didn’t: 21 years later, I am reminded daily that it was done. The boy just weighs far more than 2.76kg (and me) these days.
Wisdoms were bad for me (lower jaw). Severely impacted, growing forwards instead of up, and to make matters worse, my jaw opens only just wide enough for normal dental work, so the op was long, hard and brutal. Holes didn’t close properly for a couple of years during which I had a box of toothpicks as my constant companion cos half of every mouthful of food would get lost down the holes.
What Havelock said…. done by SAMS under a regional block (a sort of facial epidural, your bottom jaw ceases to exist for a few hours) and took almost a year to recover properly.
Good luck Sarah… keep saline or mouthwash handy for a couple of months
Oh good heavens, I wish I hadn’t read some of these comments. I’m terrified now.
Yeah, comeon Sarah, give up the chipmunk pix. Mine have never erupted, by the way, and I’m … Well, let’s just say I’ve turned 21 twice. Does this mean I’m more evolved than you lot? Don’t take this badly, but I’m thinking yes.
I also had 4 taken out at the same time. My face was swollen like a pumpkin and so were the gums, so the top ones pressed on the lower ones resulting in awful pain. In desperation I inserted my hand into my mouth to keep the gums away from each other, and that is the way I lay in bed all day. My dad was so sorry for me that he went to the pharmacy and asked for a dummy (soother). The pharmacist wanted to know how old the baby was. He said 26!
Sorry to hear of the misery. I hope all 4 wisdoms were symptomatic. A systematic review of the procedure tell us that removal of nonsymptomatic wisdoms just because one of the other 4 is a problem, has no evidence to support it. The advice is, deal with the one that is a problem, probably under local anesthetic at much lower cost and without the added risks of GA etc.
I think you’ve been robbed….my surgery cost R4500 (incl. anaethetist but excl. hospital bill) and my teeth were also impacted. I also had to have two screws inserted. The numbness had disappeared before I even was discharged from hospital! I think your surgeion might not know what he’s doing!
Oh my hat. I still have mine. And after reading these comments, I’m keeping them!
omg y did i read ths!I’m 26 and only now getting my wisdom’s.y’all r tellin me i’d actually end up having 2 get em removed after the excruciatin pain i’v had to endure so they can grow out.joh!sum1 get me some cement so i can seal my gums off,lyk seriously
I am 24 and my wisdom teeth started coming out 4 years ago. The upper two are not fully out of the gum but they are not giving me problems. The lower ones though are facing the front cos there’s not enough jaw space. In 2008 I took out one, under local anaesthetic and the pain only lasted for a week while the numbness stayed along for a year.
dear god this is the worst blog revelation i’ve ever read. ever
sitting here with my face in a sling after having six bottom teeth removed, including two impacted wisdom teeth, i am SO glad i opted for them to knock me out with IV anesthetic. i dont really remember anything. but it hurts like hades now. bleeding, saltwater, no food, trying not to toss cookies when taking meds. life is not wonderful for me right now, but i paid $350.00 all said and done, unless the insurance doesnt cover the other $2.000, then i am totally screwed. just wanted to add to the collective support/misery/wtevr. we’ll all be fine, eventually!