Why do they call them wisdom teeth if we don’t need them? Mine were being removed my freshman year of college. The doctor told me how it would go, started me counting, and was partway into the procedure–which did disturb me a little bit–before I suddenly realized I was waking up from surgery. I was done.
I was a little disoriented, but the same cute nurse I remembered when I went in was there cleaning up. She mumbled a question. Actually, she probably spoke clearly, but I couldn’t tell. I was coherent enough to figure out that she asked me if I knew where I was. I tried to respond but my mouth was impeded with gauze. For a moment she explained about medicine and getting rest. Then she said she would go get my brother and tell him everything.
My older brother did well getting medicine, taking me home, and helping me get comfortable and rest for a few hours. When my other roommates got home they forgot for a moment that I had just gotten my wisdom teeth pulled earlier. They thought I was looking good, all things considered. I told them I felt great, but that I was hungry. They knew I could probably only eat soup but they invited me to join them and the neighbor girls for lunch. So I went with them to the Art City Trolley in Springville. I was changing out gauze between every tenth spoonful. As good as I was feeling I thought it wise that I didn’t bother getting any crackers with my soup. The girls thought we were nuts. It was the first time most of us had been there. Great service! Good food! Nice ambience! I highly recommend it.
