Near Death Experience

This is the reason I am scared of dentists. This is a repost of something I wrote on myspace ages ago. It still makes me laugh when i read it…

Saturday, May 06, 2006
Near Death Experience Current mood: bored

I thought i’d like to tell you all about my near death experience.
Last summer I had to have my wisdom teeth removed. Four in one go.

I do not like dentists. At all. The appointment with the consultant was bad enough. I’ll call him Mr. X.

The reason the appointment came so quickly (well 9 months- jesus, thats long enough) was because I phoned repeatedly and stamped my feet and said I was in so much pain that I couldn’t go on and that my head was permanantly aching because of those bastarding teeth.
I think that I might have made an error.

All of a sudden, I had this letter telling me the appointment date. One week!!! Holy shit. Im not good with hospitals. Or dentists. Worst nightmare. Just thinking about it now gives me chills. My reason for hating hospitals is awful. Just awful, but thats a different story.

Anyway, I starved myself as of the evening before (which was traumatic enough, I fucking love my food. Got onto day surgery ward at West Mid well early (5am or something like that-ok, so 8am). At the desk i was met by a lovely man. I know him. He drinks in the pub i worked at at the time. Great. He is day surgery administrator “Hi Faith, I’ve spoken to Mr. X, he says he’ll try not to hurt you”. Brilliant.

Went through, alone. My mummy wasn’t allowed to stay with me because of space issues or something. Which was fucking stupid because there was loads of space in my little cubicle.
About 1,000 different people came in and asked me the same questions (am i pregnant, taking blah blah, have i eaten, am i a monkey…)

Then one of the nurses came to see me. “Hi Faith, Spoken to your neighbour, he says im to take special care of you”. Great, thats pretty nice considering i was shitting myself.
I should probably explain that my next door neighbour works as something in the theatres at Big Hospital (Don’t ask me what? Maybe a trained Monkey).

Also, my friends mum works there (in the theatres) too.

It was a proper little party in day surgery that day.

Anyway, I waited for what seemed like days- dressed in my charming little gown with my arse hanging out. Then all of the sudden, a big scary man appeared and wheeled me over into the theatre. In the theatre was some really truely awful music on, which i commented on. Even though i was TERRIFIED!! I was asked, if i would be so kind, as to let the trainee paramedic/chimp could put the cannula in my hand. For some reason, I thought this was a good idea and agreed.

It really hurt.

As a result of this, i decided it was a good idea to start crying. Not just one or two tears, proper sobbing- weeping if you prefer. Weeping is never good. Wounds weep, widows weep, and terrified 21 year olds about to have a general anaesthetic for the first time weep.

The anaesthetist came in, bustled around a bit took out the bastarding cannula and put another one in. That didn’t hurt at all. That man is a legend. If i ever see him again im going to kiss him. On the lips. I told paramedic chimp that i would hit him if i saw him again. In the bollocks.
After that, anaesthetist tells me im going to get some painkillers and i might feel funny. Awesome. I felt great. I was, however. Still crying.

While i’m in this semi conscious, terrified state (weeping) they tell me im getting a local so it doesn’t hurt when i wake up and a suppository.

Suppository!?

If i hadn’t been attached to things i would have legged it. This did not help with the crying problem i was having. Paramedic monkey boy was telling me not to worry, to stop crying and that i could hit him afterwards. Fucking right i was going to hit him.

The hugest syringe in the world appeared in the corner of my eye, which looked like it was full of copydex glue. Then i fell asleep. Crying.

I woke up choking and crying about 5 seconds later with people prodding me, forcing oxygen in me and telling me to wake up. I was far from impressed. So many people trying to talk to me, i can’t reply. I can’t feel my face and its stuffed full of cotton wool or something similar. So i took it all out. So instead of bleeding into cotton wool, i just bled all over my face. I don’t remember very much apart from asking repeatedly for my friends mum, “Sorry love, she’s not working today”…so i asked again and again. And probably spoke a whole lot of gibberish as well too. Oh yeah, did i mention i was crying?

From the moment i was semi coherant I remember asking to go home and being told no. I swear to god i must have asked every half an hour. I was offered pain killers, which i greatfully accepted. None came. Ever. I slept more. Eventually, i was told enough was enough, wake up now and bitch nurse pulled the back of the bed up so i HAD to sit up. I was offered a cup of tea! Holy cow! Brilliant. Then realised that totally wasn’t going to happen, they had mistaken me for the person who had had foot surgery. I cried some more.

John, the administrator came to see me. Smiled, then left. Nurse who i didn’t know, but knew me came to see me, smiled then left. Random nurse, i know from the pub, but didn’t know she was a nurse at west mid came to see me, smiled and left. I didn’t realise i had blood all over my face. I must have looked ridiculous.

After a couple hours of me demanding to be allowed to go home they finally agreed. Success. So i went to get dressed. Oh shit.

I was seriously dodgy on my feet. I was not going to admit defeat though. It took me ages but i managed it. Then i sat in a chair to wait for my mum. While i was sat there. My friend Jo-Jo and her mum (the nurse who works in day surgery i mentioned earlier) came to see me! I cried! Mum came, and i cried.

Nurse came back and offered me painkillers. Great! I was in a lot of pain. She came back with two paracetamol. I cried. How the fuck i was supposed to swallow them, when i couldn’t open my mouth, and my throat felt like razor blades.

Jesus. They weren’t even disolvable. With great pain and effort, i managed it.

When home in the car, cried the whole way. Cried all night as well. Especially when mum came home with a chinese takaway for the family and all i got was lukewarm soup and a yogart. Incidently, i couldn’t eat them either because i couldn’t open my mouth wide enough to get the spoon in.
I cried.

What the fuck was up with that?
Ive never cried so much in my life.

I got a phone call on my mobile. It was one of the doctors. Just to let me know, that Mr. X had only taken out 3, of my 4 teeth for some unexplained reason (or maybe it was explained and i don’t remember). I’m looking forward to having my fourth one removed. Not. It can rot as far as im concerned. Never again.

The moral of this story is:
Unless you can not physically function with wisdom tooth pain, or they get all infected and disgusting, or whatever. Don’t do it. It was the single most painful thing that I have ever done. Big mistake.You’ll look like a chipmunk, and have black eyes and bruises everywhere too.

At least it was free- think how expensive it would have been in the dentist chair.

ps. His name was Mr. Carr- He was a really nice man actually- Don’t really remember seeing him at the time though. Or at all that day. So it could have been anyone really. Maybe it was the paramedic chimp?

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