Hi, so around a year ago, in the summer, I got some thing yanked from my mouth. I got my wisdom teeth pulled out.
It wasn’t that painful. My mom and dad helped me through it. The only part that really hurt was not being able to eat or drink anything, at least 12 hours before the surgery. My mom told me that it was because when they (the dentist and or their assistants) gives me “laughing gas”, I will not puke. Also, by the time I actually get to the Dentist’s office and I’m prepped and ready for the surgery, I just won’t care anymore.
It was terrible, the time leading up to it. I normally drink a ton of water each day and eat a lot of good food. Both healthy and unhealthy. So being unable to do this was very difficult.
I kept having this fear that I would wake up from the “laughing gas” in the middle of the surgery and it was just going to be terrible. My mom kept telling me this wasn’t going to happen. I believe her a little bit, but I was still very scared.
I lied awake at night. The night before the surgery, I couldn’t sleep. I just stayed awake wondering was going to happen to me and when I could eat. I was so hungry, my stomach rumbling as I lied on my green microfiber blanket that was draped over my bed.
Then the next morning, The day finally came. I was going to get my wisdom teeth pulled out that afternoon. I can feel the empty spaces in my mouth start to hurt as I think about this.
It was that afternoon, that I would have my first surgery that I can remember. I’m still really shy and deadly afraid of people. So that didn’t make the surgery any easier. I was helped by my parents to get out of the backseat of the car and walk towards the building. I was feeling so sick. It was terrible. I couldn’t puke though because there was nothing in my stomach. I did get up the stairs under my own power.
As soon as I was checked in. I sat down in the waiting room.
“Mom, I don’t feel so good.” I said. My mom responded with,
“I know, Marty. It is going to be okay soon, I promise”.
With that in mind. I stayed quiet and leaned back in my chair. I my eye lids were getting heavy. I started to fall a sleep when I was called in to began the surgery.
I got up slowly and stumbled over to the door where the nurse was. She was wearing a white lab-coat looking thing with light brown doctor/nurse’s clothing underneath it.
“After about 15 seconds of me slowly getting up from the chair and stumbling over to the door with my parents and little sister, Emily behind me.
Emily Winder at this point is 9 years old. There is a five year difference between the two of us. She is really smart and I love her a lot. It is nice having a little sister around to get into arguments with. We are almost completely opposites. We get along, some of the time.
So I get into the chair, and they start pulling out all the tools they are going to use on me. Also, all these people start coming around me. It seemed like the whole staff was going to help with my surgery.
As I person who is not a fan of being in the middle of large groups of people, this didn’t comfort me. In fact it made me very anxious. I was scared and anxious and tired and hungry and thirsty. At this point I was done with it. I just wanted to get it done and over with. I wanted to go home.
That doesn’t mean when they injected that needle that was going to pump the “laughing gas” into my body, I was scared or frighten. That was a huge needle. It was really big. They had to use a lot of that semi-clear tape that most doctors have in their offices or around them at all times.
I was very scared, then the “laughing-gas” started to kicked in. Before I knew it, I was drifting off into La-La Land.
I didn’t wake up once. The surgery was a success. My mother was right.
Posted on January 31, 2016