Wisdom Teeth, July 3, 2003, by Erika

From MemoryArchive

Who: Erika
What: Wisdom Teeth Removed
When: July 3, 2003
Where: Westford Ma

When I was 18, after my senior year of high school, but before I went off to be an exchange student, I knew I had to get my wisdom teeth removed. I had four impacted and the only time I could get it done because of my work schedule was over 4th of July weekend. Nothing says “Happy Birthday American” like oral surgery!

I was pretty nervous because the idea of needles and dentistry make me want to scream, but I was determined to stick this thing out. Besides, all my friends kept telling me I wouldn’t even be awake for the parts with the needles.

I sat down in the operating chair and the assistant put this mask over my face and told me I’d be getting some nitrous oxide. At this point I was starting to get really ridiculously nervous. I was scared of what's going to happen next because I knew at some point I was going to get a big needle to the mouth.

I would as far as to say I was frightened of the idea of a big needle in my mouth.

So I looked at the operating assistant and said, “I’m Really Really REALLY nervous.”

“Really?” She said.

“Yeah, I mean I’m REALLY REALLY RIDCULOUSLY Vervous… ha, I just said ‘vervous’ ha…”

I just remember thinking, “Who says ‘vervous’?”, but then I remembered that I was not vervous but nervous. So I started to stifle the giggles that were just coming out of my mouth because nothing was funny. This whole procedure was serious. I hate needles… but at the same time it was all just really funny.

It was getting increasing difficult to stifle my laughter. The Assistant started to smirk at me. But at this point I was trying with all my might not to smile. What was wrong with me? Everything and nothing was hilarious all at the same time. Only moments ago I was “wet-my-pants” scared, but now I was having a gay old time. I knew I just needed to calm down.

The assistant looked over at me again and said, "I see you giggling.”

"I'm not giggling,” I said, “I'm really vervous." Ha… verous.

"OH don't worry. You won't feel a thing!"

"But I don't like needles and I know that you are going to shoot me!” The idea of shooting made me want to burst into hysterics, but I was doing such a good job at suppressing my laughter that I just didn’t let myself. None of this was actually funny. "Well" she says "Would you rather I pistol whip you?"...

It was all over. I was like that tubby English man in Mary Poppins flying on the ceiling and laughing my ass off. The last thing I remember is singing, "...some people laughing through their noses sounding something like this..."

I woke up hours later with the worst stomach I have ever had, and puked. I was really sick for the next week. My mouth hurt. My stomach hurt. I was really tired all the time, but for some reason I look back on the experience fondly.