A Quarter Less Wise (Post #60)

 

"I recognize that cheek!" was the first thing I thought when I 

saw my swollen face. (And yes, I was trouble, but adorable trouble, no? 😇 )

On Friday morning, the day after my surgery, I received a phone call from the office of my oral surgeon. Her first words were, "I'm calling to see if you're still talking to us." My reply, "The question should be reversed; are you still talking to me, or have you held a ceremonial burning of my file in the parking lot!?!" I'm actually starting to fear that I cannot have any procedure without drama of some sort! It's rather annoying...🙄

The day of my surgery began well. Because I was only receiving local anesthetic I was allowed to eat and drink as usual, though hubby wasn't a real fan of that. Too bad. Having suffered an egregious headache after my last surgery due to the lack of my morning cup of joe, I was not taking any chances this time. If I suddenly required intubation, they could jolly well pump my stomach first! 😒

We arrived at the infusion clinic where I received my desmopressin. I asked them to leave the IV cannula in, something that would serve me well later. The whole process took less than an hour and then we were on our way! I hadn't realized that I wouldn't be receiving tranexamic acid (TXA) per IV, so we had some time on our hands. Hello, Home Depot! 😍 Hubby has enjoyed doing the projects around the farm that I have no interest in, such as reinsulating/recladding our barn door. I mean, who actually notices the state of someone's barn door. Apparently, for guys, it's like the state of our kitchen; we like to have it "piccabello" when guests arrive. Weird. Anyway, after picking up a few things, we made our way to the clinic, arriving early...which never happens. 😊

Weirdly, they were running on time, and just before they called me in, a colleague of hubby's strolled into the waiting room. Not only is he a colleague, but he was our neighbour when we lived in the city. This was a God thing. There is no doubt in my mind that God sent Joe to sit with Ken while I underwent surgery. Understandably, he has some anxiety when I undergo a procedure, and it's not misplaced. When Ken asked the assistant how long I'd be, she replied, "About half an hour?" I thought, "Hmmm, I think that's optimistic," but kept my thoughts to myself. 

My surgery took 135 minutes. 

Instead of the promised half hour, it took two and a quarter hour to complete the extraction. 

Yeah, she was a bit off in her estimation. 

In all fairness, she had no idea that my tooth would require slicing/drilling into 15-25 pieces (depends who you ask), and that it would have a bulbous root. (Think onion.) Yup, that's a thing. Who knew?!?

These are "normal" wisdom teeth which can have anywhere from 2-5 roots.

Most of the time, the roots taper down like a carrot. 🥕

Every once in a while you'll see roots that identify as onions. 

These are known colloquially as "bulbous roots."

I know all this, not only thanks to Google, but due to the muttering of Dr. Gotaas during my surgery. Things began well. I needed a bit of extra freezing (which didn't resolve until 10:30 pm - he wasn't taking any chances!), but we were feeling positive as he told me, "The best way to do this is slow and steady. That's how we avoid the most trauma." Because my tooth was lying horizontally, he simply sliced off the top like the heel off a loaf of bread and held it up for me to see. "First piece is out!" 🍞 That's when I knew it would it probably be longer than half an hour. He told me he would piece it out only if removing it whole wasn't an option. Obviously, it wasn't a option. At the beginning of the procedure he alternated between whistling, humming, and singing. 😮‍💨This began to dissipate as we reached the one-hour mark. As we neared the 1.5-hour mark he started muttering things to my tooth, "You little turkey, you come out of there!" and "I'll bet this little turkey has a bulbous root." At one point he told me that when his children were in school, they would often come home from the last day of school carrying a certificate lauding a character trait they had demonstrated during the year. He thought that I deserved one for "Perseverance," and that it should be nicely framed, with a gold star. I was actually feeling very, very sorry for him! 🫣

Obviously, this extended surgery was causing a back up in the waiting room, something I'd experienced myself many times. I have a rather unique take on waiting for doctors, being married to one who ran consistently behind; if they're running late, that means they're taking the time necessary to do a good job. This might matter to me one day. And so, it did. Despite a staff member popping in to ask how much longer we would be, he never rushed. Oh sure, he may have stopped whistling, but never once did I feel like I was a burden. His staff seemed to think this was pretty normal, which I imagine is true, given that he is a perfectionist who probably only takes on complicated cases. I found it interesting that one person actually held my jaw whenever he would attempt to remove a piece of the root. That's a far cry from a knee on the chest! They were worried about me, meanwhile I was thinking, "I'm gonna' have to pay double!" But nope, he didn't make any extra off me, even though I was definitely extra! Again. 🙄

After he showed me the last bit of the bulbous root, and sewed me up, I stared at the bits of my tooth on the tray, "This is really going to confuse the Tooth Fairy." 😁 He and his assistant agreed, though she thought it was more pieces than his 15-20 piece estimation. I was just glad to have it over with. 

Honestly, my biggest concern was Ken, but I couldn't exactly ask them to update him with tools/hands in my mouth and a bite guard holding it open! Thankfully, Joe was the next patient after me. There are three surgeons in this clinic. Joe could have been booked with any of them, but God decided that Ken needed someone to sit with him and distract him. I'm so very, very glad I serve a God who loves me enough to look after the little things. 💗 (And Joe didn't mind waiting, as he's also a doctor! 😊)

As I was hopping off the table, Dr. Gotaas was getting my prescriptions for painkillers and antibiotics ready. I mentioned that I have oral TXA at home if needed, and then he mentioned Dex (dexamethasone), a steroid I took before every chemo infusion and still had kicking around. I love that stuff! I could literally go like an Energizer Bunny whenever I had that on board, well, until the chemo kicked in, that is. (🤫 Don't tell my pharmacist I still have some...) Dr. Gotaas wanted me to take Dex for the following 4-5 days and when he saw that I still had my IV cannula in, his eyes lit up. "Let's give her some DEX right now!" Obviously, he was worried about swelling and wanted to get on top of it before things got worse." I was brought to the back where a lovely nurse pushed 10 mg of Dex through my IV. I don't think I've ever had 10mg of Dex while I was conscious before. It was wild!! Yeah, so wild I forgot to ice my face 🫣; I was having too much fun running around the house! Lying on the sofa is for wimps and sleeping is for the weak (to quote one of my sons) ...until the Dex wears off. Phew! I had trouble falling asleep (duh), and needed a bit of extra prayer, but finally the day was done. 🌄 And yes, I finally remembered to ice after several hours had passed.

This photo was taken this morning. Cute, eh? 

Kinda like a chipmunk with a thing for purple.

I imagine it will only become more "royal" as the 

days pass, given my penchant for beautiful hematomas.

In the past, I have taken Tylenol 3s, which made me stay awake all night. What I didn't realize is that Tylenol 3s have caffeine and I'm extremely sensitive to caffeine, because of course I am. 🙄 (This does come in very handy on road trips!) This time I was given EMTEC which is Tylenol and codeine, without the caffeine. Caffeine assists in the absorption of the other ingredients, which is why it is a popular addition to painkillers. Thankfully, I only needed the occasional regular Tylenol past the morning of the next day. What I did need more of was the TXA. Unfortunately, the desmopressin was not sufficient in reining in my bleeding; I soaked through double gauze in less than an hour, which of course made me nauseated! 🤢 So on top of the disgusting TXA oral rinse, I've been taking TXA tablets, and despite this, I've still managed to bruise quite beautifully!  

So now I am well on my road to recovery, which, other than the little bleeding thing, is going very well. I'm in a unique position in that I don't have a "socket," nor a "pocket," as one usually does after an extraction. Because my tooth was horizontal, I have a beautiful, fully stitched up incision along the back of my jaw. However, as a rule-follower, I have been sticking (mostly) to the recommended diet of soft foods. Man, I miss chewing!  

I've deliberately posted this photo is a tiny format, 

to spare those who find mouths less than appetizing, like me. 

The incision is circled in white.

What I've found surprising is how this procedure has rattled me. Now, I'm not a fan of dental work under the best of circumstances, and the past 4+ years haven't exactly been the best of my life, so there's that. But at this point I'm almost scared to have my blood drawn. What if they hit an artery and my blood shoots across the room and I bleed out!?! (C'mon, Heather, even for you that's highly unlikely!) Or worse, what if they perforate my bowel during the colonoscopy I need, because my FIT (Fecal Immunochemical Test, otherwise known as the Check-for-blood-in-your-💩-test) came back as positive...which is a negative. 🫤 (Okay, so maybe you should only have it done in a hospital with an ICU...) I know that a God who sends someone to distract your husband during surgery can also be trusted with the big things, but I'm tired. I'm simply tired of waiting for the next blow, the next bad test result, the next destructive domino to fall...the waiting. 

But now is not the time to fumble, and I have no plans to do so, but sometimes my feelings are stronger than my good ole' Mennonite stoicism, and I have to crank the tunes and cry out to my Father. In this morning's service, two things blessed me; the song I've linked here, (You're Still God, by Philippa Hanna), one I've cried along with in the past, and the thought that our prayers should be more like a walkie-talkie conversation, with moments of speaking and moments of listening. I've experienced this, yes, an audible voice. (At least it was audible in my head! 🤷🏼‍♀️) I've also experienced a feeling of being held in the arms of Jesus, and I've felt His tears join my own. He hates this. This uncertainty. These days when my faith feels wobbly. But I know, I KNOW, that there is a purpose to this. I don't know what that purpose might be and I may never know this side of heaven, but as long as I'm sticking with my Saviour, I'm in the only place I want to be, yes, even when life sucks and you can only eat pudding and mashed potatoes. Because God is still good, even when life isn't. 💗

You're Still God

When all foundations have been shaken

When I'm left standing in the dark

And all I feel is my heart breaking

You still reign and You're still God

And when it feels all hope has faded

The heavy questions hit so hard

And though my soul may feel forsaken

You still reign and You're still God

Though I can't see what's before me

I know that I can trust Your heart

And this one truth will be my story

You still reign and You're still God

I will declare that You are with me

Though voices whisper that You're not

You'll never leave me nor forsake me

'Cause You still reign and You're still God

Though I can't see what's before me

I know that I can trust Your heart

And this one truth will be my story

Your truth's still reign and You're still God