So, this is happening.

I had terribly crooked front teeth as a dweeby 12 year old. I wore really intense braces for a little more than 2 years…I had all sorts of rubber bands (9 in my mouth at one time, I do believe), and I also had headgear. Not your standard headgear that you see in 80s-90s TV shows either – also, do kids still have headgear? It doesn’t seem like a thing anymore…? Anyway, I had, like, a beanie, in addition to the neckstrap thing you’re picturing. This was after having had some weird wire and pink plastic “appliance” when I was in 2nd-3rd grade. I have MOST DEFINITELY worn my retainer more than 75% of the nights since I got my braces off, and I’m a 33 year old person. I guess my point is that I have put in some serious time to not be a buck-toothed mess.

When I got my braces off, they wanted me to have this weird fiberotomy surgery where they cut the fibers between your teeth to release the “memory” and prevent your teeth from moving back to their original positions. I have, to this day, heard of one person actually having this done…my AWHS bff Stephie. At any rate, my mom took me to the oral surgeon for the consultation for the fiberotomy thing, and they scared the crap out of 14 year old me…My mom always told the story that I was standing against a door or a wall and the dentist described some part of the procedure, and I turned white and slid down the door. (If I could pick a group to advocate for now, it would be the super wussy, nerdy junior high-aged girls who, like me, secretly take everything to heart and too seriously. Life’s so hard for the painfully shy overthinker…) When we left the oral surgeon, I said no way in hell that little surgery was happening. NO WAY. As long as I wore my retainers, then everybody could suck it.

Once my wisdom teeth started coming in, the now 18 year old campaign for me to have them removed began in earnest.

My wisdom teeth came in (relatively) straight, and they only very rarely bother me – if I get REALLY worn down, they bug me a little bit. My old dentist would tell me to think about getting them out, and once he told me to take my x-rays with me to the orthodontist to see if he thought they needed to come out. I didn’t TELL him he was supposed to be looking for that, and he looked at the x-ray and said, “Everything looks really good. Your wisdom teeth are coming in straight, there seems to be enough room in your mouth, no real crowding or any issues.” VICTORY WAS MINE…wisdom teeth stay.

My new dentist said he agreed that they were pretty straight and there were no problems NOW, but that wisdom teeth are a pain in the ass to brush adequately, and that I should get them out to prevent complications later – I was already very old for wisdom teeth removal, and it would just be worse the older I get. I’ve been ignoring him, just as I did my old dentist, pretty successfully.

This last time I went to the dentist, I heard the same crap about my wisdom teeth, and then my dental hygienist spent some time trying to talk me into getting them out. I agreed to think about, partly because she told me that all 4 of my wisdom teeth were 1’s on a removal difficulty scale of 1-6 (so promising!)

I started the Whole30 and started feeling spunkier annd wanting to get things done and be more organized and adulty, so I thought I’d at least go for the consultation and see what I thought. I went last Thursday, and it was OK in the “I wait in lines at Cedar Point and then walk across the cars to wait for friends to ride the ride” type of way…I was panicky just sitting in the waiting room/treatment room knowing nothing was going to happen to me that day.

The surgeon was nice enough and explained things – including that my top teeth were 2’s (wtf?!) on the 1-6 scale, and my bottom teeth were 4’s or 5’s (SUPER-DUPER WTF!?!?). Apparently, I have exceptionally long tooth roots (yay? No. That means it’s more likely the nerve below them will bruise when they pull them…) and I should have had this done when I was 16. Um, get the time machine.

I have the next two weeks off to use up time and/or I thought I’d be post half marathon, so I decided NOW IS THE TIME FOR WISDOM TEETH REMOVAL and tried to make an appointment during the 2 weeks off…no dice. My only option was tomorrow at 7:45am, so I’m working until 7 and Bossman is coming in early so I can get this done, sort of, on my vacation. (side note: 6 more hours of work until my stretch of 12 days is over).

They sent me away with the following prescriptions:

Please keep in mind that the extent of my drug-taking IN MY ENTIRE LIFE consists of OTCs, antibiotics, birth control, and antidepressants (and whatever Xanax my grandma force-fed me when bad things happened, I suppose). I have never had any sort of pain pills, ever, and I’ve never so much as had stitches. Also, I pass out when I hurt myself (this is true – I got a blood blister once while playing baseball at Matt Wheeler’s house and barely made it across the street, and spent 2 hours with my hand in ice water above my head, getting woozy if I looked at it or thought too hard about it…My mom always insisted I tell my roommates to look out for this).

I am terrified…also, I didn’t drink, at all, until I was nearly 21 because I didn’t like the idea of not knowing ahead of time what it would be like. I am a huge terrified baby, and just because you’re worldly and/or a pillhead, don’t hassle me…and don’t tell me any stories about how terrible it was for you or will be for me, and don’t link me any “post-dentist” videos…I might freak out…In a COMING SOON post, I will tell you how Brian super-conveniently pre-evened things up so that he can’t take videos of me being ridiculous post-surgery (lucky me!)

Anyway, the appointment is at 7:45 and I’m going to spend the ENTIRE NIGHT at work fretting about it (and being thirsty…so thirsty, since I’m not supposed to drink anything after midnight).