One year older, four teeth less wise.

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It’s Sunday night. School begins again tomorrow, and the weekend is done.

This statement both reassures me and makes me a little upset. To tell the truth, it’s not schoolwork or the fact that I have to wake up early, it’s that my wisdom teeth really hurt.

Let me correct myself: the empty spaces in my mouth where my wisdom teeth were really hurt. All four of them.

This past Friday began quite pleasantly for me. I woke up, showered and brushed my teeth, and then got in the car to go to the oral surgeon. I was called back pretty quickly, put in a chair and set up with heart rate monitors and oxygen, and then I felt a needle in my arm.

I was a little nervous, seeing as I don’t really like needles, but I stayed calm, knowing that in a few seconds I would be knocked out. I was sitting there wondering how much longer the sedative would take when I woke up in a different room, lying on a bed.

Apparently I was strapped down, but I don’t really remember much. Just asking my mom if I was still in the surgery room. Turns out I wasn’t.

I stumbled to the car, and then I fell back asleep.

We drove up to an intersection, and I opened my door and leaned my head out of the doorway as I threw up.

Apparently this was normal, seeing as my mom didn’t even flinch, just said that if I kept swallowing blood, it would happen again, and that we’d get some gauze when we got to my aunt’s house.

We did get gauze, and it did help… for a bit. That is until I puked again. And again. And two or three more times after that, I don’t really remember.

Anyway, I spent most of my weekend in bed, throwing up any food I ate and slowly stopping the consistent bleeding in my mouth.

So, to wrap up my story, I’m upset about the week because I can’t just lie down and rest, but I’m excited for the week because it means I made it through the worst.

Also my cheeks are really swollen.


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