So, tomorrow I will be surgically removed from my wisdom teeth, a process that I’m not really looking forward to, but I’m assured is a necessary evil.
We’ve had a love/hate relationship for a few years now, we were blissfully unaware of one another’s existance until about 5 years ago when, to be blunt, they became a bit of a pain.
Adopting the “ignore it til it goes away” status that I’d used previously employed to rid myself of unwanted nuisances worked in the interim… the odd few days of niggling, only to give up and disappear for another year or so.
Things changed last month.
The once slight niggle that could be ignored or eliminated with a couple of paracetemol now escalated to the can’t-sleep-can’t-yawn-fully-make-your-eye-twitch kind of pain that vast amounts of nurofen plus could just about put a dent in.
T’would have a ninja crying for his mammy.
So, the xrays were taken, the consultations were made, money changed hands and the decision was made.
They’re coming out tomorrow.
I can’t say that I’m thrilled with the prospect. I have to be generally anesethised for the procedure after which I will have two gaping holes in my life/mouth that will need to be literally stitched shut.
So, my dressing gown and slippers are ready, the fridge and freezer are stocked with soup and my boyfriend has been warned to stock up on ice-cream and painkillers.
According to the aftercare sheet I’ve been given, there’ll be swelling, bruising, pain and a slight chance of nerve-damage.. not exactly moonlight, music, love and romance, eh?
However, I know it’ll be worth it down the line. Not to have the kind of grinding, throbbing, draining ache in the side of my face every few months or so will be my reward.
So let’s face the music and dance, eh?
I hope I don’t lose my wisdom.