It’s gone forever—the one remaining baby tooth I had in my mouth all these years. Alas, the final vestige of my childhood went with it. Apparently I’m supposed to do the adulting thing full time now. Happily, though, I briefly visited another planet today, too. We’ll get to that shortly, but first, the procedure itself.
Early this morning my oral surgeon removed Tooth K, the bottom-left baby tooth located furthest back in a child’s mouth. There are two permanent teeth behind the resulting gap now—my other molars—which erupted normally when I was a kid. They had been sitting there peacefully in their proper positions behind the discarded tooth for decades, albeit 30–35 percent larger than their younger brother who sat next to them like a good friend. Today they said goodbye to their little friend.
The adult tooth under K never came in to push it out. That’s because it couldn’t, as it had formed sideways, horizontally impacted in my jaw. So, that tooth had to come out today, too. My surgeon said he had to saw the bigger one in half before digging it out. Let’s hear it for pain meds, the effects of which I’ll share in a moment.
My wonderful family dentist said the baby tooth had to come out sooner rather than later because it was starting to decay on the underside. (Its awkward positioning made it hard to brush.) Up to this point, our strategy was to leave it alone until it started yelling at me. Well, it started yelling at me. All well and good; it was nothing but an annoying food catcher, anyway. I was forever sticking toothpicks (or anything else within reach) into the gap to get rid of the irritation.
After the removals, the good doctor did a bone graft to accommodate my future implant. This organic-synthetic material was of the allograft variety, which usually comes from cadaver tissue collected from all over the world and processed into a collagen-rich paste. I wonder if the graft will change my accent.
Pulling a “retained deciduous tooth”—plus the impacted one underneath it—called for serious sedation, which usually makes me quite loopy and, I am told, sillier than usual. Other minor procedures I’ve had in the past (for a deviated septum, multiple ear tube procedures, a venous ablation, and an umbilical hernia) all involved the twilight pill, nitrous oxide, or something similar. Today’s IV concoction, however (whatever it was), led to the most vivid mental trip I’ve ever had.
My mind went into high gear, moving through the universe in a strange vortex of celestial and terrestrial images flying past my vantage point. The objects were otherworldly but strangely familiar, mostly geometric shapes and intricate objects that were well designed. Everything was highly structured, well ordered, and very logical. It wasn’t heaven, but it was still peaceful and pleasant—a higher level of consciousness than I had ever experienced before. (Makes me wonder what I missed from the 6os.) It’s hard to describe but totally unforgettable.
Maybe the subject matter of my mental flight to Planet Weird was connected to the library classification system I recently created (and now execute on a daily basis until all the resources are properly shelved). Or maybe I was accessing various recesses of my mind that heretofore had gone un-accessed. The most fascinating part of the trip was that I could think about my thoughts. It was a bit like the Apostle John getting an apocalyptic tour of the invisible realm, where he could comment (and even emote) on what he was seeing.
All I know is that it was totally cool, and they woke me up far too soon. I was out for about 35 minutes, but the “trip” felt like only 3 quick minutes, and glorious ones at that. Apparently, time passes differently in an altered state of consciousness.
As they were trying to wake me up from my groggy, wobbly state, I kept trying to resist and get back to my mental adventure. Unfortunately, my efforts failed, and I discovered I had a blood-soaked gauze wad in my mouth. Thanks, everyone.
Now I’m just lying here at home with another hole in my head, being waited on hand-and foot by Nurse Sonya, and staving off the pain with drugs that are way inferior to the sedation cocktail that catapulted me to another world.
They didn’t even give me back my extracted tooth so I could put it under my pillow tonight and collect the going rate from the tooth fairy.
Yup, my childhood is now over.
