I didn't want to be fussing about it..... or more, I didn't want to be vocalising it. Right before they came to bring me to theatre, I picked up my phone (yeah right, like I'd actually put it down for a second that morning...!!!), and sent a quick email to Patrick who was sitting across the room from me. It simply said 'If something goes wrong, just know that the last ten years have been perfect, because I've spent them with you. I love you.xx.'
They brought me down to the waiting area outside the operating theatre and I spoke with the Surgeon and the Anaesthetist. They were so amazing. They checked my heart and lungs out properly. The Anaesthetist thoroughly went back through my notes and even tried to contact the previous Surgeons to find out what exactly had happened. They very much put my mind at ease, and gave me their word that they'd 'keep me alive'.
I had asked the Anaesthetist to put me to sleep very slowly so that I didn't realise it was happening. The worst feeling in the world is that panic when you feel yourself losing consciousness, losing control, and there's nothing you can do about it. With my heart pounding in my chest, I got a bit sleepy..... and then I woke up. I'd been in theatre for two hours and twenty minutes. Of course it was a very difficult extraction, they had a lot of trouble getting the teeth out because all 4 were very badly impacted. When I woke up I felt like I couldn't breathe, my tongue was so swollen, I felt like I was choking. I spent a long time in the recovery room, before being brought back to the room where Patrick was waiting for me. He took my hand and said 'I got your message, everything is going to be okay'. I was monitored for a few hours to make sure everything was okay with my breathing (I always have breathing problems after an anaesthetic), but soon I was given some ice-cream to try and then we were on our way home.
I was still numb for most of that evening, but as soon as the numbness started to wear off... the pain started, and gosh was it bad. The next day, my face was the size of a watermelon. It was so swollen, my lips and chin were sunken in my face. For the next few days the swelling and bruising continued to get worse, the pain was horrific, I couldn't talk - my throat was so sore, and just no sound was coming out when I tried to talk, I could only manage slushed ice, and I was feeling just extremely unwell, it just wasn't right.
One of my dearest friends had the same procedure a few months ago, and she had developed a dry socket (when the blood clot comes out of the socket leaving the nerves and bone exposed and extremely painful), so I was only too well aware of the possibility of that happening.
By the Saturday morning, three days after the surgery, I just knew something was wrong. Patrick rang the Dentist for me, and he agreed to see me straight away. The Dentist said he has never seen anyone so swollen after having that procedure, and he was extremely concerned about my inability to speak and difficulty in swallowing. Gaining access to the surgical sites was near impossible as I could barely open my mouth due to the swelling, but he managed to get a tiny mirror in there and his immediate response was 'Anne-Marie, I think we need to get you to a hospital'. I had a bad infection and sepsis was setting in. The Dentist rang the Surgeon who suggested getting loaded doses of Penicillin into me immediately, and if that didn't work I'd need IV antibiotics within six hours. The Surgeon had contacted Aut Even hospital to put them on standby, so that if I did need to go there, they'd be ready for me and could administer the medications as quickly as possible.
Luckily, the loaded doses of Penicillin seemed to be working and I had perked up a good bit by that evening. I was then put on a course of 4 antibiotics to keep the sepsis at bay.
The pain seemed to ease a bit after a few more days, and the swelling was hugely reduced. It seemed that all was heading in the right direction and I'd turned a corner.
Fast forward to Wednesday evening (seven days after the surgery), one of the blood clots came loose and fell into my mouth and I spat it out. The following morning the pain in my upper right socket was excruciating. We rang the Dentist again and again, he agreed to see me straight away. He managed to get the mirror into my mouth to confirm that it was a dry socket, but he then broke the news to me that there is nothing they'd be able to do to treat it. They would usually irrigate it and pack it with a gauze to keep it protected from exposure, but unfortunately the stitches in my gums are too tight and that is restricting my ability to open my mouth more than a few millimetres, this meant that they couldn't remove the stitches for the same reason... they couldn't access them. The Dentist sent me home with a prescription for pain medications, and said that they could try again in seven days, when hopefully the stitches will have dissolved by then and access to the sockets would be possible.
The pain is awful and nothing seems to be helping much. On Friday evening, two more blood clots came out (bottom right and top left), meaning that I now have three untreatable dry sockets. The pain is dull and throbbing, and is constant. It's the kind of pain that means you can't even hear your own thoughts, nothing helps much, and it is much worse in the morning and at night, and anytime there is cold air. I am living on a diet of very mushy foods and liquids, anything that doesn't require chewing.
I'm really not sure how I'm going to put up with this pain for another four days, and gosh, I so hope that these stitches will loosen up by Thursday, so that they can access and treat the dry sockets.
This has been an awful ordeal and has prompted a lot of 'why does this stuff always happen to me?' and 'why is nothing ever easy?, why does nothing ever run smoothly for me?' thoughts.
On the upside though, Patrick has had a very quiet few days, due to my inability to speak. My voice is back now and I'm sure he's delighted about that :-). I am really glad that I had all four wisdom teeth taken out together, because there is no way I'd ever have gone back to have that procedure again.
I think I really need to start learning to do things by halves.xx.
