I am officially 38. I have been for a whole day now. Wahoo!
And how am I going to celebrate my second day in my official late 30's?
I'm getting my wisdom teeth pulled this morning.
That's right. I'm headed to the oral surgeon's office within the hour. He's gonna knock me out, and then go to town on my lower wisdom teeth. ... I'm hoping to walk out of there with my jawbone intact. (Yeah, I'm not kidding. There's a chance he'll have to cut part of it out to get to my teeth.)
Five years ago, when my dentist first went through the description of the jaw/tooth breaking extravaganza that would be my "wisdom tooth experience", I was horrified. I couldn't imagine the pain. ... No, I could imagine it, actually. Which is exactly why I never did it.
And now I have cavities in my left wisdom tooth. And, frankly, both teeth have bothered me since my surgery in June. ("What hasn't bothered me since June?", would be a more apt question at this point in time.) It turns out that what they say is true, when something is wrong with your body... everything is wrong with your body. Trauma makes other issues poke up their little heads up, begging for attention. Well, my teeth have my attention.
So, today I'm getting them pulled. And the weird thing is, I'm not particularly nervous. Do I know my mouth is going to hurt like the devil? Yes, I do. Do I know that I'll be swollen and bruised? Yes, I do. Do I also know that I'll have a bonafide reason to use prescription strength pain meds again? Yes, I do.
Seriously. I am going to be UGLY. The pain is going to be bad. (There's nothing quite like tooth pain.) But by the time noon comes, I'll have taken a couple Percocet and my back, neck, shoulder, arm and head won't hurt. The pain in my left foot will be but a distant memory and I can almost guarantee that I'll be sleeping like the dead. (Nothing makes me sleep like narcotics do. Nothing. They are a blessed, blessed relief in that way.)
I'm out from work all week for recovery. (Per the good doctor, I'll need it.) Awesome.
I know, it's sick, but I am honestly looking forward to being grounded by something again. I've been pushing myself a little too hard in the last couple weeks. Having to stay home and stay down will be good for my body. ... And my mom will be here with me, which will be good for my soul.
Viva la wisdom tooth extraction!
(Check back in 48 hours. I have a gut feeling I won't be quite as excited then. But for now, I'm okay with it. I have my head wrapped around it. It's something I have to do, and the reality is that my body has been through worse. It'll be fine.)