(This isn’t my x-ray, but it’s pretty similar. Check out the teeth at the far right of the picture- the left side of the person’s jaw. Check out how the teeth are coming in practically sideways. Yep.)

I’ve been hit.

Waking up to a mouthful of blood is an interesting experience. I’ve always been reasonably healthy and somewhat fit- I’ve never broken any bones, and my worst injury ever was burning my hand when playing with fire as a child. (Yeah, literally. I know.)

The ferrous taste of blood is both familiar and disconcerting. It instantly throws you into a unique, survival-oriented mental state. You become more aware of your fundamental processes- your breathing, your heart-rate. It reminds me vaguely of that scenario in many video games where your screen starts to flash and shudder when once you’ve been hit. Because that is what happened here. Surgery is invasive.

Bigger than I ever imagined. (That’s what she said.)

I was quite surprised by my dental X-rays when I saw them. I mean, I always knew that my bottom left wisdom tooth (#38, if you’re a dental student or a geek of some sort) was shaped funny, and I kinda presumed that it was like an ingrown hair- runty, malnourished, underdeveloped- a little benign growth of some sort. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my wisdom teeth seemed to be the thickest, fattest and most obtuse items in my mouth!

(At this point of writing I’m immediately drawn to thinking about the massive wardrobe declutter I did a few days ago, which I will write about too- I emptied out sections of my wardrobe onto my bed many, many times- and it never seemed to end. There was far more than I had ever truly comprehended.)

The inelegance of the alignment of my teeth in my mouth bothered me.  The food constantly getting stuck, the constant accidental-gum-biting… I had an opportunity to correct all of that for free. I had to make the call. I was sick of constantly having these teeth on my mind, and I looked forward to the day where I could stop worrying about them. The best time for action was yesterday; the second best time is now.

Operation Trauma.

The injections were the most painful part- maybe a 6 out of 10, but the discomfort lasted a few seconds at most. My surgeon (a Dr. Chow) was very nice and professional. He’d tell me what was going on, every step of the way. (“You’ll hear some cracking.”)

I found myself focusing on my breathing throughout the operation- I actually managed to attain a somewhat meditative state. It was my first time in an operating theater, and I thought about how it felt, what it meant to me. The idea that I was about to lose something that I had been carrying with me for so long- that was an engaging thought.

Amusingly, my teeth were notoriously difficult to extract. I take that as a good sign. At certain points, the surgeon had to get his assistant (I presume, because he must have been holding his tools) to grip my head hard while he leveraged himself. It took a comically long time to get the last suckers out.

The Aftermath.

The absence leaves a hole. Well, there are four holes. And food keeps getting stuck in them. And they hurt, and feel weird.  My gums and jaw are sore, and I’ve got a bit of a background headache- I think the swelling is putting some pressure on the nerves.

It was interesting to look at the wounds in my mouth. The blood clotted to stop the bleeding, and there were stitches. It was purple, swollen. The teeth that had been extracted were discoloured and one was even partially decayed- absolutely disgusting stuff. (I opened up one a couple of days later and took a deep whiff. I nearly threw up, it smelt like death.)

I found all of this absolutely riveting. It’s one thing to philosophically contemplate things in a detached way, and another to experience physical pain, to experience actual physical trauma, and observe the healing process. It’s interesting to get a real sense of how damage sometimes has to be done for the long term good, how problems never seem particularly bad when we’ve grown accustomed to them over time.

I can’t stop fiddling at the stitches with my tongue. >_>

Not Smoking.

I was smoking very heavily when I was in Penang just a week or two before my operation- I finished about 4 packs of Lucky Strikes in a week. (It was Duty Free, so it was less than $2 a pack- a major steal!) I only smoked 2 sticks the day before my operation- and subsequently, I’ve gone almost entirely without. (Okay- I bummed one the day after the operation, another the day before the second, and I’ve shared one with two different friends on two separate occasions.)

You could choose to see that as some sort of success or some sort of failure- I went from about 10 sticks a day to less than 4 sticks in 9 days. I see it as progress. Am I still a smoker? I guess I am, I guess I always might be. But I’ve grown detached from the process. I am more than my cigarettes, or my relationship with them. I’m still me without them- in fact I’m a lighter, healthier, fresher me.

I’m not sure if I want to quit smoking altogether. There’s still something about the narrowed focus that a cigarette gives you, the edge it takes off. It’s the dependency that sucks the most- when you get used to it, when you’re constantly craving hit after hit. But I’m thinking- splitting a pack of smokes with friends once a month seems like a pretty fine idea.

Anyway, I’m going to stay relatively smoke-free for at least a couple of months while my mouth heals. It’s interesting to have this as a real option. There were a couple of times where I felt like smoking, but I found myself thinking about my gums, and my teeth, and my breathing- and the choice not to smoke came naturally. I didn’t have to fight particularly hard. It’s all a matter of how you frame it.

I shall no longer buy packs of cigarettes unless there’s something worth celebrating or mourning- which is the same way I approach alcohol. Poisons should be isolated to diminish their cumulative effects.

(It occurred to me that we all ought to swap the frequency of our good and bad habits- we should go for light runs every day and binge eat/drink/smoke once in a while- but we tend to do things the other way around, don’t we?)

What I’ve Learnt:

1. I’m getting older. I’m no longer invulnerable. I can hurt. My teeth are beginning to show signs of staining, my gums are receding slightly. It’s time that I start being more responsible with my health, my diet, my personal hygiene, everything.
2. Sometimes a little pain is necessary for a lot of relief in the long run. It’s useful, and important, to put ourselves in long-term perspectives. I find that this mindset helps me make better decisions.
3. Good sleep is fantastic, and we should all get as much of it as we can. Same for water, and fresh air.
4. It’s nice to go without cigarettes for a while, even if you’re a smoker. It’s nice to breathe deeply, to smell the grass, and the air.
5. It’s good to have time and space to think, and experiences that compel you to.