Wisdom Teeth

I wish it meant you that the more wisdom teeth you have, the wiser you are.  Apparently I’m a rather unusual person with six wisdom teeth.  Sadly, the fact that I have six wisdom teeth and likely a lot less wisdom than the average person with four, it doesn’t seem to work out.

Tomorrow morning I am getting my wisdom teeth removed.  In one single day I will be conquering two of my greatest fears; needless and being unconscious.

I have always had a dislike of needless, but my hatred and fear of them was solidified a while back when I had to go for some blood tests at the local hospital.  Three times they stabbed my arm to no avail so they tried the other arm.  Once…. fail.  Twice…. fail.  Three times????  Finally!!!  But with only half of a single vile needing to be filled it seemed that my vein had had enough.  The blood simply stopped coming.  Period.  The nurses solution?  Twisting the needle around in my arm to try to coax the uncooperative vein into yielding some more of its blood.  It hurt, a lot.  That wasn’t the worst part.  What really did the trick was seeing this foreign object stab and contort my flesh underneath my skin.  All I was thinking was, “That’s not supposed to be in there!!!”  The only time I want my muscles to move is when I tell them too, not when some foreign sharp object decides to go searching around for the nearest vein.  Since this point all objects that the medical field inserts into my body have gained an intense distrust.

My second fear, being unconscious, is not quite as intimidating.  Only once have I been unconscious and it was by no choice of my own.  It just happened.  There was no realization it was going to happen until it had already happened.  I didn’t even know until afterwards.  Now is entirely different.  I know I will be forced to become unconscious through the injection of some unknown drug through a large flippin’ needle (commonly referred to as an IV) at an unknown point after which I will be repeatedly stabbed and parts of my body removed.  I will have no control over the damage people may be doing to me.  I have also heard that I will have no control over my own bladder, which I find even more unnerving.  I like bladder control.  I have stayed away from food and liquid so I should be good.  Hopefully my body doesn’t magically come up with some liquids to expel during the surgery.  I would find that awkward.  Anyways, back from the rabbit trail, I don’t like being unconscious.  I guess, really, when I look at it, I want to be in control.  I don’t like putting my life into someone else’s hands.  I don’t know that surgeon.

Anyways, I’m sure I’ll be fine apart from psychological trauma.  Maybe I should ask for laughing gas as well.  That’s a thought!