Photo: Skyler Ash

The young and the toothless

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Our Fun editor Skyler Ash wrote this while she was coming down from the high of anesthetics and dental surgery. Enjoy (all of the spelling mistakes).

Two and a half hours after surgery

It’s 2:33 p.m. and I’ve just had four teeth removed. I’m not tyàtvt tired but I’m supposed to go to sleep

My surgery was successful to start at.11a.m. bythtey we’re late so it started at 12

Mm y nursewenr to ryerson too, what a wild time

Live update****my dad took my ice away and it hurts so bad

Anyway it went well and they let me keep my teeth which is exhibiting

I can’t feel my face *view song from that Scarborough guy* hah

It hurts a lot

Have a lovely day, Skyler Ash

Eight days after surgery

Good news! After all the IV meds wore off, I stopped crying. I cried because my cat jumped off my bed/my mom told me to go to sleep/my sister was going to work and effectively leaving forever/my friend who lives in another city wasn’t in my city/my face doesn’t look as hideous as it did post surgery/the freezing wore off and I can distinguish my lips from my chin/the bleeding stopped!

So things are pretty good, minus the gross yellow-green bruises on my jaw that seem to glow like a beacon screaming: “Look at her! Look at her face! What a monster! Hide your children! Head for the hills!”

Contrary to what the two-year-old I babysit thinks, I only had four teeth removed, not all of my teeth.  My wisdom teeth were heavily impacted (sideways) and none of them had broken through my gums yet.

That got me thinking: I had all these teeth that I had never seen before, which is weird.

So before my surgery, I asked to keep my teeth and they sent me home with them in a special blue bag for medical waste. They only gave me back three, because they had to crack one into a few pieces to take it out. I’m kinda pissed I didn’t get to keep the pieces, because they’re my teeth. But whatever. I guess they made that decision without me (something about not being “conscious enough”). They had to crack one of the three teeth they gave me in half, so at least I got to keep that.

They’ll be a great addition to the small jar in my room where I keep two other teeth I had removed from a surgery a few years ago.

Why do I keep a jar of my teeth in my room? I’m not really sure. I just wanted to see what they looked like once they had been pulled (which was pretty cool by the way. They’re a lot longer than I thought they’ d be and quite bloody). And when the time came that the novelty of seeing my teeth in a jar had worn off (a few hours? Days? Who knows!), I thought it would be weird to just walk out to my garbage bin and throw my teeth away, so I didn’t.

Anyway, I probably have some deep-seeded psychopathy, but let’s move on. I’ll deal with that later.

Today, I got a piece of cauliflower stuck in one of the holes at the back of my mouth. There was a moment when I thought that perhaps it would never come out, and my gums would seal up over the cauliflower. After closing up, the cauliflower would rot, causing a chain reaction where my whole lower jaw would decompose away to nothing and I’d have to have it removed and live a joyless, jaw-less life.

But it came out after a few minutes, so I guess I’m safe.

I still can’t really open my mouth much more than an inch or so. I asked my nurse at my follow-up appointment and she said that was normal. That’s good to hear, because for the past week I’ve been living with the constant fear that something went wrong during my surgery, and that my jaw would never regain its full range of motion, therefore I’d never be able to open my mouth enough to eat a good burger ever again.

She said it should be fine in another week or so.

So, I’m doing pretty well. Except for the whole creepy jar of teeth thing.

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