There is wisdom. Or, y’know, not.

I had my two lower wisdom teeth removed yesterday, under general anesthesia. The surgery itself went fine, especially given that the doctor I’d met in the office and whom I was expecting to be actually doing the procedure wasn’t. Everyone kept asking me, “And it’s Dr. Max doing your surgery?” My response was always, “I’ll take your word for it.”

I had my teddy bear, Rilly, with me. He comes to most hospital visits and ER trips. I got him early in the morning the day Little Man was born, and he’s a great source of hugs. Not so big on conversation and can’t drive, so Kevin came with me too. So did my traveling hexie bag; the hexies were enough of a hit that the nurse supervisor on the surgical floor heard about them, and asked about them as she was walking us out.

Had some issues with two of the nurses. The first, on the recovery floor, tried to give me a drug that it’s all over my chart I can’t take. I don’t think the facial itching would have caused too many problems, other than peeling off a couple layers of skin, but projectile vomiting after oral surgery could cause some complications. And then when I had some major leg cramping, said she couldn’t do anything and walked away. Another nurse came over and flexed my feet until the cramps let up.

The second was my discharge nurse. She stopped in the middle of my discharge instructions to take a personal phone call. It was Mark, who she’d matched with on a dating site. She didn’t think going out with him would be a good idea, because she was seeing someone. But somebody was moving to California soon, so maybe. They exchanged Facebook info and selfies. It was about that time Kevin went to get that supervisor I mentioned earlier. She “offered to help” my discharge nurse, and wound up taking over. The supervisor was absolutely wonderful.

I’ve been taking my pain meds on the clock, since I know exactly how much chasing pain sucks. All I’ve eaten has been jello and bananas, since I’m supposed to stick to soft foods through tomorrow. Sunday, depending on how things are feeling, I can add food back as long as I can tolerate them.

There was great concern over my oxygenation levels. A normal saturation level is 95% or higher. The only way mine even got TO 95% was on oxygen, taking deep breaths. And that was before the surgery. Talking it over with th enurse supervisor, I mentioned that over the last couple months, I’ve had sats consistently in the 80-85% range. She became very concerned and recommended I get in to see my pulmonologist as soon as I can. I’m already on supplemental oxygen at night, along with my bipap machine for sleep apnea, but she thinks I may need daytime oxygen too, until we figure out what’s going on. So I’m going to work on that on Monday.

Overall, not the worst surgery I’ve had. Not the best either. I’d have thought that for such a minor thing as wisdom teeth removal, it would have been better than it was. But we’ll see how things go in the next few days.

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About krissjudd

30-something with fascinating health seeks blog for sporadic rambling, ranting, regaling, revivifying, and rabble rousing. Occasionally finds time to chime in with a rhyme. Knows when they're there with their noes about a nose. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but my soul yearns to milk every significance and nuance from the words with which I love to play.
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