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The wisdom tooth extraction is officially over, and my brain is thus
officially fried. I actually parsed 'electronic kitchen scales' as
'electronic kitten scales' just now and I spent a good minute wondering
where one could purchase an electronic kitten.
Whoops.
Psychologically, this operation was a doddle. Given my operation history - seven general anaesthetics prior to this one, four of which I can recall - I wasn't overly fussed about the hospital stay, the surgical procedure or the possiblity of mind boggling amounts of wretched pain after the operation. Having Operation Number Six: The First Cochlea Implant Attempt stuffed up so badly that it shook off my typical twenty-two year old's belief that I was immortal kind of put today's effort in perspective. I mean, there's always the risk of death under general anaesthetic, but that mostly applies to people who already have severely compromised health to begin with. The biggest risk for wisdom tooth removal is that your facial nerves connected to the cheeks, lips and chin don't recover properly. Compared to losing my hearing virtually overnight? No biggie.
On the other hand, Operation Number Six left me with very, very severe hypochondria and a dire fear of hospitals. Which was really helpful when Operation Number Seven: Cochlea Implant Goes To Leah came around two months later and I was scared shitless they'd rupture my brain lining again and this time I really would get meningitis. I don't think I've truly, honestly been so terrified of dying as I was then. It got to the point where I was having minor panic attacks before I actually went to a psych and got something done about it.
That's been one of the best things about today. Not the teeth coming out and knowing I don't have to deal with random bouts of pain every now and again. Not lining the coffers of the private health industry. Not eating orange jelly for the first time in roughly fifteen years. Knowing that I really have recovered from the fear that surrounded those implant operations. I really am free from that pain.
The other best thing was coming home to Matt. Not least of all because he hunted down ice cream. :)
Whoops.
Psychologically, this operation was a doddle. Given my operation history - seven general anaesthetics prior to this one, four of which I can recall - I wasn't overly fussed about the hospital stay, the surgical procedure or the possiblity of mind boggling amounts of wretched pain after the operation. Having Operation Number Six: The First Cochlea Implant Attempt stuffed up so badly that it shook off my typical twenty-two year old's belief that I was immortal kind of put today's effort in perspective. I mean, there's always the risk of death under general anaesthetic, but that mostly applies to people who already have severely compromised health to begin with. The biggest risk for wisdom tooth removal is that your facial nerves connected to the cheeks, lips and chin don't recover properly. Compared to losing my hearing virtually overnight? No biggie.
On the other hand, Operation Number Six left me with very, very severe hypochondria and a dire fear of hospitals. Which was really helpful when Operation Number Seven: Cochlea Implant Goes To Leah came around two months later and I was scared shitless they'd rupture my brain lining again and this time I really would get meningitis. I don't think I've truly, honestly been so terrified of dying as I was then. It got to the point where I was having minor panic attacks before I actually went to a psych and got something done about it.
That's been one of the best things about today. Not the teeth coming out and knowing I don't have to deal with random bouts of pain every now and again. Not lining the coffers of the private health industry. Not eating orange jelly for the first time in roughly fifteen years. Knowing that I really have recovered from the fear that surrounded those implant operations. I really am free from that pain.
The other best thing was coming home to Matt. Not least of all because he hunted down ice cream. :)
