I woke up my son early this morning, fed him a light breakfast of toast and a boiled egg, then I drugged him with two sleeping pills, waited until he was almost out, forced him to negotiate a flight of stairs, stuck him in my car and dropped him off in a dentist’s chair to have his wisdom teeth ripped out. Ah, the joys of parenting.
Poor Paul has to go through the ordeal of having his wisdom teeth pulled twice. The first time he began to have severe pain on the right side of his face and ended up having an emergency extraction. They didn’t put him under; they just numbed the snot out of him and dug ‘em out. Ouch. My poor baby was so miserable for weeks after. And the swelling was shocking. I had never seen anyone swell up that bad.
I had my wisdom teeth removed when I was 18. I’ll never forget the sit down with the oral surgeon in which he explained all the numerous things that could possibility go wrong, and then asked me to sign a consent form. ‘What? Do I look like an idiot?’ Apparently so, because I signed the form and they knocked me out. Back then they did it the good old fashioned way and really put you under. Trouble is, every time I’ve ever been put out, they always have a hard time getting me to come to again. I think they over dose me. I was out for almost two days. But, I had prepared and drank a ton of pineapple juice, so I didn’t have much swelling. I did, however, have an allergic reaction to the penicillin which made me violently ill. Oh, and I couldn’t drink out of a straw for a good six months or it would come shooting out of my nose. Yeah, good times.
Anyway, Paul knew when he had the first two wisdom teeth removed he would have to go back and get the other two out this summer. That and our trip to Tahoe has been all he has had to look forward to. He has not been too excited about this visit to the dentist, as you can imagine, so that’s why I suggested that this time he be put under during the ordeal. He agreed. I had no idea they no longer did it the same way. Generally speaking I was told to give him two Halcion and call them in the morning. It was weird seeing my kid all high and loopy.
Of course, this is nothing compared to when he had his cornea transplant back in 2005. Paul was terrified of the surgery, but he was brave and didn’t let on until they stuck that thing in his arm so they could put in all the IV’s and stuff. He lost it, turned white, got all clammy and sweaty, and started begging me to take him home. It was all I could do to keep from bawling. The anesthesiologist came around the curtain, took one look at Paul and said, “Oh dear, we’d better put him out now.” Within a few a minutes his head was rolling forward and I was standing in the corner crying. God. I hope we never have to do that again.
So, now I sit and wait for the dentist to call me and tell me they are done removing pieces of my teenage son so I can come get him and try to repair the damage they have done. It’s a good thing they don’t warn you about these days BEFORE you have kids.
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