fuckyeahhqkpop:

Min (miss A) (1680 x 1050)

allthingspixar:

Newt, the Pixar film that will never be.

beaux-esprits:

suicideblonde:Scarlett Johansson

And so as I sat gingerly in the surgical chair, wiggling my toes as I stared up at the ceiling, the dentist told me that he was going to give me a dosage of the anesthetic to prevent as much pain as possible during the surgery.

So I opened my mouth and tried to distract myself, looking around, and subconsciously I started counting the number of jabs that he was giving to my gum area through just one injection’s worth of dosage. I was like, “one, two, three, four…., wait a minute where was I?” and unknowingly he punctured my gum for more than a dozen times. So being the freakerzoid (there’s no such word in the dictionary, but I’ve been hearing it for the umpteenth time that I happen to be slightly addicted to using it) that I am/was/have always been, I chuckled at the pain administered to my gum.

So the nurse stared at me like I was supposed to be making an appointment with the shrink or something. (What does she expect me to do? Scream and then wildly attack the dentist?)

We proceeded on with my x-ray, and as you can see above, those are the scans of the before and after state of my left jaw. The dentist then told me the wonderful news that my left mandibular third molar was not horizontally impacted as I first suspected, hence there was no requirements for a surgery. However, he told me that sadly, I did not have a classic angular impaction, hence my tooth could not be simply extracted but instead he would have to perform a surgical removal for me. (You know he could have made my life less miserable by just telling me the bad news straightaway. But no, he simply soaked in the joy of seeing my face go from “OH ICE CREAM!” to “FUCK NO THE ROLLER COASTER IS GOING DOOOOOOOWWWWWN.”)

Fast forward a few moments and I was back on the surgical chair. And the dentist was poking my gum, asking me if I felt anything. (Technically his anesthetic was not strong enough and HE MIGHT AS WELL JUST STABBED ME IN THE EYEBALL BASTARD.) So obviously, I told him I could still feel him, uh, penetrating my gum. And he gave me yet another injection, this time with his final jab he made a swerve with the needle in my gum right round to the back of my tooth. (And again, I chuckled, this time with tears in my eyes as I choked on my blood. Oh yes, the nurse was staring in fear that I might go wild and bite her head off.)

Next thing I knew, I had my eyes covered with a mask and given instructions to not touch my face throughout the entire process, which could last from thirty minutes, to ninety.

Everything else was a blur, I could feel the dentist make an incision in my gum but not sense any pain, my lips felt like rubber and it was stretched by some sort of a hook by the side of the surgical chair. And although I was laid back to rest, my back was kept stiffly straight as I tried my best to not squirm whenever the saw went screaming in my mouth and the stench of burnt tooth (possibly from the sawing) fuming up in my mouth and nose. Through the tiny peepholes I made out a white tube, that was slowly turning a deep red as it sucked the bloody concoction that was flooding up within my mouth. It was weird to not feel anything, yet know that it hurt. And that being awake and blindfolded doubled the sense of fear.

I felt like Frankenstein.

Suddenly the dentist said,

“Alright, you are going to hear a slight snapping sound but just know that everything is fine.”

And I felt the pliers go around my tooth, my long term agonizing piece of annoyance that had been so far sawed into two. And the dentist twisted one half of it, with a loud accompaniment of bone snapping or plastic cracking.

But something was not right, the dentist wasn’t removing my tooth, but instead he was sawing it again. Something was wrong, I could feel the pain. But before I knew it, I could feel thread in my mouth, he was stitching me up, at long last.

I sat up, hardly feeling anything at all, and listened as he told me that there was some slight complications. As my root was near to a big nerve, there might be the case of me losing my sense of touch at my left cheek, and tongue as well. It may be permanent, or simply temporarily. He then added that he had to double saw my tooth as it happened to have a curved root, adding difficulty to the surgery.

I wasn’t exactly paying attention, instead I was playing with my now rubber ducky textured lips. I was poking it with my finger nails and there was nothing at all. I could feel the texture of my lips at my finger tips yet my lips felt like they weren’t a part of me. (It’s weird you know, like touching your face knowing that it’s there but it doesn’t feel like it’s there. And you could um, poke it with a needle and stare in awe as it turns red but hurt at all.)

I thought to myself, it doesn’t seem to be that bad, nothing seems wrong and I didn’t feel anything.

But an hour later, I was in my bed drinking blood and trying hard not to cry. The anesthetic was wearing off, and I was able to feel my fingers run across my lips and my cheeks. And my tooth, it wasn’t there but I could feel the pain. Like, “surgical lagtime” I would call it, as I felt the saw going through my tooth, the pulling and the snapping of the tooth. Every single pain that I ought to have felt that was numbed out during the surgery was coming back. I swore I could have just died of pain on my bed. I wanted to slam my phone so badly onto the floor with every text message or phone call that came. I wasn’t even able to read properly with all that tear welling up in my eyes.

But thank goodness that was yesterday. All that’s left of the pain is the constant bleeding where I had to drink my own blood, and of course my current square-shaped cheek.

I feel so much better now that I’m rid of my left mandibular, but somehow the swelling makes me suspect that the dentist stuff marshmallows within my cheeks and sewed them there. A horrible process, and I was unfortunately fortunate enough to be fated with the chance to go through a tough surgical removal. (I have no idea if I should be grateful or wrathful at all)