A couple of days ago, I got this nagging toothache on the right (side of my jaw...it's a toothache, where else can it be :P). It didn't amount to a lot, but was there, all the time. I tried the usual. Googling possible reasons of a toothache. Asking people around what they did when they had one. Trying on random fixes e.g. clove oil, sucking on cloves, brushing with Sensodyne. Nothing seemed to work. And in no time, the pain started to intensify, just like that. Eating was especially painful. Every... single...bite...was a task. For some time, I thought of sticking to a liquid diet...that idea was tossed right out the window the minute I saw a bag of french fries. And with every passing minute, the pain just kept getting bigger. By the next day it was an integral part of my life. Like life didn't exist before it. I was miserable. I hated everything. My bed was not soft enough, my job was horrible, my life was over. And I couldn't even feel better by eating good food. :(
So, I decided to take action. I went to the nearest dental clinic (on recommendation of course) and got myself checked. By then, I had a slight swelling on my right cheek too...this 'thing' was growing fast! The doctor on duty was actually an intern, really young, still doe-eyed. I thought, what would she know, but, well, my pain said otherwise. She took one look at my tooth and said, very casually, "The pain's because of your new wisdom tooth that has come in. It will have to be removed." Now this was news to me. I had a whole tooth grow and didn't even realize it! When did getting a new tooth get so easy? And why was it painful now - when it was already out? And why did it have to be removed? Wisdom...tooth...why the 'wisdom' tooth? No one minds more wisdom. Particularly when it comes all on its own, packaged with a smart tooth. :)
But well, apparently mine wasn't placed properly. And if not removed, would injure the tissue inside my cheek, badly. It had already begun to do it. So well, without any further ado, I promptly booked an appointment with an orthodontist and started to research methods used for WTE or Wisdom Tooth Extraction. The more I read about it, the more confused I got about what exactly would be done. How would the extraction go about? Will they cut around the gum? Will they dig it out? How does it work?
A couple of painkillers and era-long days later, it was time for extraction. I reached the clinic well in time, familiarized myself with the surroundings. Made peace with children coming out crying, nay, wailing out loud. The clinic was crowded - a good sign - it would mean the doctor was good. And also expensive. So he had to be good! When I went in and saw my doctor, my first impression was that this doctor looked too burly - for a doctor that is. I mean he was tall, broad, pot-bellied and quite muscular. Reminded me of wrestlers in my grandmother's times - those strong, dhoti-clad (or whatever that loin cloth is called) men who wielded these huge wooden stumps and drank five gallons of milk and ate like giants. If I bumped into this person on the road, that would be my first thought! When you think dentist, you think a plain, sophisticated, hopefully lean, never-stepped-out-in-the-sun-or-done-manual-labor sort of a person. Not a wrestler.
I was soon to realize why he being that way mattered.
I was calmly brought in and asked to sit in the dentist chair - might as well have called it the slaughter chair! Another intern asked me some courtesy questions - how did the pain start, what side etc. etc. I think she was just trying to bide time till the doctor got out of his previous engagement.
And soon, he did.
You know how they say that giants are the most gentle? So was this doctor. When he started talking, I felt like a little girl (with two piggy tails, wearing a big frock with can-can in it - I'm actually an adult old enough to have children, I pay taxes and live independently) . His voice had a very soothing effect and he talked like you do to a 5-year old. A lot of calm and force at the same - the kind you need to have to deal with a restless and scared kid.
But no amount of soothing works when the voice says, "I am going to stick two injections in your mouth, one after the other and you won't feel a thing." Panic and horror were the only emotions I felt thereafter. Also, the poking of a needle, and then another.
And then it happened. You know why you need to be as strong as a wrestler for extracting a tooth. Because it is all about brute force. 15 mins after I had been injected with a local anesthesia, the calm and composed doctor pulled out a plier-like thingie from his 'tool box', zeroed in on the bad tooth, gripped it tightly and then with all his might, he pulled. No fancy operation, no intricate carving, nothing. He just pulled as I watched in horror. Thoughts went to that intern who had inspected me. Would she have been able to 'extract' this tooth. Why does such a dumb procedure have such a fancy name - Wisdom Tooth Extraction my foot! Will he pull out the whole gum? What did I do wrong in life to go through this? And in one minute which felt like an eternity, he held my precious, rotten tooth in his hand.
He then filled in a lot of cotton swabs in my mouth - it must have been a pretty bloody sight for him, gave me a prescription of pain killers, told me precautions I needed to take, gave me a pat on the head and asked me to leave - in that same mellifluous voice of his.
After this 'near-death' experience, I headed back home, slightly tizzy, slightly lost and mostly empty in the mind - and a swollen cheek - no, no, not normal swollen, thrice the size it is supposed to be. In my tizzy state, the doctor had said my cheek would swell up because of the sudden shock it got - that started to make sense now. And thus started a whole week of excruciating pain, no food - liquid food, painful food, painful sleep, painful wakefulness...you get the drift, pain. The minute the painkiller would go off, I would writhe in pain, think the world was worthless and lose interest in everything. Thoughts always got down to - will I ever get better? Will I ever get to eat food I like? Will the world ever get better? Why is there so much suffering in this world? I was suddenly very empathetic towards everyone. Anything and everything moved me. I pledged to dedicate my life to social causes once I got better, if I ever did.
Life went on like this for that one week until one fine day I woke up and could eat food again. And I got up and went to office. There was an important presentation to work on after all...
So, I decided to take action. I went to the nearest dental clinic (on recommendation of course) and got myself checked. By then, I had a slight swelling on my right cheek too...this 'thing' was growing fast! The doctor on duty was actually an intern, really young, still doe-eyed. I thought, what would she know, but, well, my pain said otherwise. She took one look at my tooth and said, very casually, "The pain's because of your new wisdom tooth that has come in. It will have to be removed." Now this was news to me. I had a whole tooth grow and didn't even realize it! When did getting a new tooth get so easy? And why was it painful now - when it was already out? And why did it have to be removed? Wisdom...tooth...why the 'wisdom' tooth? No one minds more wisdom. Particularly when it comes all on its own, packaged with a smart tooth. :)
But well, apparently mine wasn't placed properly. And if not removed, would injure the tissue inside my cheek, badly. It had already begun to do it. So well, without any further ado, I promptly booked an appointment with an orthodontist and started to research methods used for WTE or Wisdom Tooth Extraction. The more I read about it, the more confused I got about what exactly would be done. How would the extraction go about? Will they cut around the gum? Will they dig it out? How does it work?
A couple of painkillers and era-long days later, it was time for extraction. I reached the clinic well in time, familiarized myself with the surroundings. Made peace with children coming out crying, nay, wailing out loud. The clinic was crowded - a good sign - it would mean the doctor was good. And also expensive. So he had to be good! When I went in and saw my doctor, my first impression was that this doctor looked too burly - for a doctor that is. I mean he was tall, broad, pot-bellied and quite muscular. Reminded me of wrestlers in my grandmother's times - those strong, dhoti-clad (or whatever that loin cloth is called) men who wielded these huge wooden stumps and drank five gallons of milk and ate like giants. If I bumped into this person on the road, that would be my first thought! When you think dentist, you think a plain, sophisticated, hopefully lean, never-stepped-out-in-the-sun-or-done-manual-labor sort of a person. Not a wrestler.
I was soon to realize why he being that way mattered.
I was calmly brought in and asked to sit in the dentist chair - might as well have called it the slaughter chair! Another intern asked me some courtesy questions - how did the pain start, what side etc. etc. I think she was just trying to bide time till the doctor got out of his previous engagement.
And soon, he did.
You know how they say that giants are the most gentle? So was this doctor. When he started talking, I felt like a little girl (with two piggy tails, wearing a big frock with can-can in it - I'm actually an adult old enough to have children, I pay taxes and live independently) . His voice had a very soothing effect and he talked like you do to a 5-year old. A lot of calm and force at the same - the kind you need to have to deal with a restless and scared kid.
But no amount of soothing works when the voice says, "I am going to stick two injections in your mouth, one after the other and you won't feel a thing." Panic and horror were the only emotions I felt thereafter. Also, the poking of a needle, and then another.
And then it happened. You know why you need to be as strong as a wrestler for extracting a tooth. Because it is all about brute force. 15 mins after I had been injected with a local anesthesia, the calm and composed doctor pulled out a plier-like thingie from his 'tool box', zeroed in on the bad tooth, gripped it tightly and then with all his might, he pulled. No fancy operation, no intricate carving, nothing. He just pulled as I watched in horror. Thoughts went to that intern who had inspected me. Would she have been able to 'extract' this tooth. Why does such a dumb procedure have such a fancy name - Wisdom Tooth Extraction my foot! Will he pull out the whole gum? What did I do wrong in life to go through this? And in one minute which felt like an eternity, he held my precious, rotten tooth in his hand.
He then filled in a lot of cotton swabs in my mouth - it must have been a pretty bloody sight for him, gave me a prescription of pain killers, told me precautions I needed to take, gave me a pat on the head and asked me to leave - in that same mellifluous voice of his.
After this 'near-death' experience, I headed back home, slightly tizzy, slightly lost and mostly empty in the mind - and a swollen cheek - no, no, not normal swollen, thrice the size it is supposed to be. In my tizzy state, the doctor had said my cheek would swell up because of the sudden shock it got - that started to make sense now. And thus started a whole week of excruciating pain, no food - liquid food, painful food, painful sleep, painful wakefulness...you get the drift, pain. The minute the painkiller would go off, I would writhe in pain, think the world was worthless and lose interest in everything. Thoughts always got down to - will I ever get better? Will I ever get to eat food I like? Will the world ever get better? Why is there so much suffering in this world? I was suddenly very empathetic towards everyone. Anything and everything moved me. I pledged to dedicate my life to social causes once I got better, if I ever did.
Life went on like this for that one week until one fine day I woke up and could eat food again. And I got up and went to office. There was an important presentation to work on after all...
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