I'd Give My Wisdom Teeth....

On Thursday, I was blessed with having my four impacted wisdom teeth yanked painfully and bloodily from my body, leaving me with a bruised and swollen head and a mild addiction to prescription Vicadent. What an utterly lovely weekend I have had. For months now I had been dealing with the pain of four new molars pushing their way into my mouth, reeking havoc with the pain sensors in my face. Finally, I was able to obtain an appointment with an Oral Surgeon to have them removed. "You'll be a little swollen", I was told, "A little tender", I was warned. "By Saturday night, you'll be as good as new", I was lead to believe. Bullshit. Saturday was worse than Friday. My entire head, including my eyeballs and hair follicles throbbed for four days. And the prescribed pain killer? All it did was make me cry for no reason at all, and throw my Spaghetti-O's across the room in a drugged induced temper tantrum. I have been unable to talk or sing properly in days, so my director had to cancel a rehearsal on my behalf (this is not a good thing). I have been unable to eat anything but Chef Boyardee or soggy noodles (this is not a good thing either). And I look like I have had my face made up with Jennifer Saunders' "fat man suit" (this is perhaps the worst thing of all).
So what does this all come down to? I have been wondering if this frustration and pain has been worth the ending of the frustration and pain I felt before with the four ivory buggers still in residence. I don't know and perhaps I never will, but one thing is for certain... Dentists suck.