Thursday, August 05, 2004
"wisdom teeth" is so ironic
I'm having two of mine (the impacted two) yanked tomorrow. I find it ironic that "wisdom" teeth today are extracted as a matter of course. I don't know anyone who has kept theirs.
I do NOT want to have mine out. I'd rather they stay nice and happy, warm and cozy, down in my gums. But my dentist, oral surgeon, husband, father, and brother all think I need them out. My mom is the only one who's ambivalent, but that's because she used to work for an oral surgeon who told her she didn't need to have hers out.
My mom and I are almost exactly alike physically—same height, shoe size, eye color, even the same small gap in the front teeth and crooked inscisor. So why are her wisdom teeth still in her head while mine are going to be brutally hacked into pieces and extracted?
Can you tell I'm not happy about this? I have too much crap to do to be out of commission for three days recuperating from oral surgery. My house is a mess, our closet is STILL broken, I need to buckle down on the LSAT study, and my personal statement needs work. But instead of taking care of some of these things this weekend, I'll be sleeping propped up on pillows, cleaning my sockets, and eating pudding.
Ooooo boy. Pudding.
I do NOT want to have mine out. I'd rather they stay nice and happy, warm and cozy, down in my gums. But my dentist, oral surgeon, husband, father, and brother all think I need them out. My mom is the only one who's ambivalent, but that's because she used to work for an oral surgeon who told her she didn't need to have hers out.
My mom and I are almost exactly alike physically—same height, shoe size, eye color, even the same small gap in the front teeth and crooked inscisor. So why are her wisdom teeth still in her head while mine are going to be brutally hacked into pieces and extracted?
Can you tell I'm not happy about this? I have too much crap to do to be out of commission for three days recuperating from oral surgery. My house is a mess, our closet is STILL broken, I need to buckle down on the LSAT study, and my personal statement needs work. But instead of taking care of some of these things this weekend, I'll be sleeping propped up on pillows, cleaning my sockets, and eating pudding.
Ooooo boy. Pudding.
