So, surgery went well. I guess. I wouldn't totally know because I was unconscious for it and Matt never asked questions like, how did it go, and the such.
So we assume all went according to plan.
What I did not fully anticipate was how shitty of a recovery it was going to be. I knew having a molar being pulled sucks, because I have had that done before. I did not fully understand the process of getting a bone graft done. Apparently, parts of bone are sawed out, stuff is shoved in and basically your head is just flopping everywhere. Which, knowing that now, I am so incredibly thankful I opted for being totally put out. Had I been awake for any of that it would have been far more traumatic.
The kicker was it took them awhile to get me out. They tried the gas first and after 20 minutes, and telling me to huff it more than I already was, they needed me to sign the waiver to do general anesthesia via my IV. So I did because obviously I want to be out. Then when the doctor came in and was a bit incredulous that I wasn't out yet, and wasn't even foggy because I was able to talk, make a fist, and was coherent, he did the IV to get me out himself.
And then I woke up totally out of it and not even totally sure where the hell I even was. But then there's Matt, saying he'd like to go so if I could just hurry up and show them I can sit, then we can go. I remember sitting up, but I have no memory of getting out to the car. I do have a vague memory of a drive through and as it turned out, we apparently stopped at the gas station for Matt to get a snack for later, Burger King for him to get lunch, and then the pharmacy.
Because I'm sure I looked awesome drugged out and drooling on my window. Nice, Matt. Nice.
So I get home and he's trying to get me to read my care pamphlet and eat and I'm all- just let me sleep, I feel like I have just been given a roofie. So I slept. For hours. It was glorious.
Then I woke up to my face being covered in blood so I decided that was as good a time as any to change my gauze. And then I saw how many stitches I had. I looked like Frankenstein. It was kind of brutal. So I change my gauze and see what I have for pain medication. Which turns out to be what was on my "does not work on me" list I told Matt to give to them. He swears he did, but the fact that's what I'm prescribed makes me doubtful. But it's Ibuprofen 4 which is the equivalent to taking four Advil's, and I take a minimum of six every four hours and it does nothing, and some Hydrocodone which doesn't do anything. I don't even get sleepy or whatever. Nothing. I may as well take a vitamin. Strangely, no antibiotic.
So fast forward a few days. I'm still in pain, the refuse to give me anything else for pain management, and my mouth feels swollen. I assume this is normal. The care pamphlet I got was for wisdom teeth and basically not helpful at all. Fast forward to a week after surgery and honestly, by now the pain should be minimal at worst and gone at best. So should the swelling, but it feels swollen on the inside of my gum, if that makes any sense. I call the surgeon and I'm told to come in immediately. They'll stay open for me. I drive the kids up there thinking I'm walking out with antibiotics or something.
As it turns out, my stitches are infected AND I have dry socket. The surgeon tells me he's going to change my stitches and shove medicated gauze in the hole to cover the exposed bone. My poor kids are in the waiting room but he assures me this won't take more than 5 minutes. Fine. He gives me Novocaine and a local, both of which I told him wasn't going to work because it never does.
It, of course, does not work and I find this out as soon as he starts pulling the stitches out.
And I scream. Oh, do I scream.
But not nearly as much as I do as I did when the new stitches went in. The poor nurse shut the window because I'm sure the joggers on the path thought I was being murdered, and she had to sit on me. By the time I'm done, I'm literally dry heaving and crying for pain. I can't even breathe because it's just not naturally to be in that much pain, ever. I then have to go out to the desk to get my next appointment card. And there is Jackson, crying, and Olivia hugging him and telling him, "It's OK, she'll come back out." which is just.. .so sad. Then the receptionist gave me a hug and tells me hearing me scream like that almost made her lose her lunch and she thinks I'm brave.
I had to sit in my car for ten minutes just to gain some composure to drive home. All the while, Olivia is asking me if this is where she'll come for braces. So, obviously I'm making Matt take her to that appointment.
But on Sunday, three days after my ordeal, I yawned and I swear it felt like some of my stitches ripped. Not all of the way out, but enough that the gauze felt droopy? Then yesterday, I sneezed and bam- all of my stitches and gauze came out.
Needless to say, I am not pleased.
Right now, I'm stitch and gauzeless, but I'm not really in pain? It's uncomfortable, but it's not like it was pre-new stitches. I also got an antibiotic at my last visit and I feel a lot less swollen. I also am not sounding like I'm drunk. For awhile there, my mouth was so swollen I sounded totally intoxicated. It was kind of embarrassing.
I have to go back this Thursday for a check on my new stitches. Honestly, I don't feel like I should have to pay for this new set. Then I go back again in October for a "plan and scan" to make sure my bone has healed and then figure out when I'm doing my next surgery.
I can hardly wait. I'm told the recovery for that is worse than this one usually. Super.