Extraction Procedure
For my wisdom teeth extraction, I chose to be fully awake for the procedure. I was given local anesthesia. My oral surgeon’s last name was Caldroney. He was blonde haired and blue eyed, a muscular and stout but good-looking man, perhaps in his early to mid-thirties. I think of Caldroney as a sailor type. I spoke to him before the procedure, and from his voice and composure I could discern an incredible precision that carries from his profession over to how he lived his life. I felt great relief and some sense of awe that I was going to be under his ministrations.
We began by going over my condition. My two wisdom teeth were lodged in my lower jaw, about two-thirds buried in bone. They were emerging at an angle, putting pressure on the rest of my teeth. The thick nerves that ran right underneath them were visible in the x-ray. Caldroney assured that it was going to be a simple and common case, and I believed him. He started by giving me two short shots, one on each side on the inside of my jaw. After a minute he returned and injected me twice again, this time with a longer syringe—the metal kind with finger holes. I could still feel the pinch and sting of the needle, but very quickly I began to lose sensation of the lower half of my face.
“Okay, we’re ready,” he said, “Are you ready?” I nodded yes and closed my eyes for a brief moment. When I opened them again he was hovering over me with a thin plastic shield over his face, the corners soldered to his surgeon’s mask. My hands clenched in anticipation. “Open wide for me.” With what looked like a Chinese soup spoon he pried the side of my mouth open, peering at my tooth. I felt him putting pressure on my jaw with a blue rubber handled instrument—he was cutting back my gums.
A beautiful Chinese resident pranced in and announced that she was going to observe. She had milk-tea colored skin and long wavy hair, and thin black-rimmed glasses. I noticed her right away when I had entered the surgery floor. Her name might have been Stephanie, or Sarah. Caldroney assigned her to irrigate. He took another instrument and began tapping at my tooth, tapping and testing, prying gently at the sides. He took a pair of thick pliers and set it around my tooth, but missed. He set it again and pulls this time, but no give.
They decided to drill my tooth. “We’re going to drill this tooth in half,” he explained, holding the drill up to my face. It was dark green, and really did look like a product from Sear’s hardware department. They powered up the drill, Stephanie irrigated steadily, and I could feel the drill pushing into my tooth. I wondered how it was entering the enamel—later I saw that it had disintegrated the tooth, but at an angle. The tooth had a perfect right-angle chunk cut out of it. “I hate this drill. It doesn’t fucking drill anything.” Caldroney complained. Some indifferent mumbling came out of someone standing outside of our partition. Go Caldroney! He took the drill to me again and then we were ready. One long tug on the tooth and it was loose—a soft wet pop and my jaw’s release. For a single moment my jaw turned soft for Caldroney and let go of the tooth. There was some blood on his finger, but not much. I felt an odd minute disappointment. “Okay, it’s out.” His face was flushed and I could see a thin sheen of perspiration steaming up his shield. He had the look of a man who was enjoying himself immensely. They sewed me up with a curvy needle—Stephanie cut the suture for us.
The other side was much simpler. I forget already if they drilled again, but this tooth came out whole. Also with a soft pop, gentle release. Caldroney cradled my head in his thick arm and firmly eased it out while Stephanie looked on.
After the procedure was over, they took turns cleaning off the sides of my face. Was there really that much blood? Caldroney stuffed two pieces of gauze into my mouth and told me to bite down, fast. There was some fatigue in the way he spoke and looked at me. I couldn’t feel the bottom half of my face and suddenly I felt self-conscious. The procedure had taken them less than forty-five minutes.
The surgeon floor’s attendants didn’t let me keep the teeth. They needed it for research. I hate them! Caldroney prescribed two types of pain meds for me, and I am sent home with some gauze and cold compresses. Before I get home though, I have to go pick up the painkillers. But that is a whole other different story and one I would really rather forget.
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