COLUMN: Gaining wisdom while losing teeth
To my surprise and somewhat befuddlement, I recently discovered that my head contains 30 teeth.
Sounds about right to me.
I’ve never bothered counting my teeth before, but when I was a kid, I learned that when a dentist ever informs me of any slightly interesting fact, I should immediately assume the worst. For example:
“Well Garrett, you appear to be harboring a well-like dental caries in your mandibular second premolar.”
“Will I live?”
“In this day of modern dentistry, I would have to say ‘probably.'”
“So, then, it’s a bad thing, right?”
“Not for my wallet!” I hate dentist humor.
Of course, dentists always preface their bad news with the degrading, “You have a fine set of teeth!”
So when I found out I had a “nice set” of 30 teeth, I wasn’t sure what to think. I had to count them myself.
Sure enough, I only counted a whopping 28 teeth.
It turns out that after nine years of being ecstatic at the prognosis of possibly never having to meet an oral surgeon, I have two wisdom teeth.
That sucks.
There is a good chance that while you are reading this very newspaper, I am somewhere in the valley, doped up on fun medication, finally relieved that once again I have the normal number of adult human teeth.
I will also most likely be whimpering in post-tooth extraction pain. But if I’m lucky, enjoying a tasty bowl of apple sauce.
A few weeks ago, after discovering my new dental plight and after doing plenty of dental research from online hotbeds of information like www.scienceagainstevolution.com (This site can be found by using a powerful search engine like Google and then blatantly disregarding the first several pages of applicable links), I decided to tell my friends about my impending oral surgery.
They responded to my situation as any other person does when you tell them of a potential bad experience,
“Oh yeah, when I got my wisdom teeth out….”
This is followed by numerous horror stories about tooth extraction, from mass amounts of pain, to having nerves cut, to losing two weeks of memory, to being fondled under anesthesia. The list goes on.
I like the list.
Everyone tries to trump each other’s horror story so that they sound like the greatest survivor of a wisdom teeth battle, culminating in something like, “It was so bad after the surgery that I had to dope up on extra pain meds. I woke up the next day in LaVerkin with 20 grand in cash, a 12-gauge shotgun, a signed marriage certificate and a really bad headache.”
Other than somewhat scary, when I think about the removal of my maxillary third molars, the whole situation is just plain disappointing.
This will be the first time in my life that I’ll lose teeth and not get visited by the tooth fairy.
I suppose an actual benefit of today’s procedure is that it will keep me from having to go winter camping with Scouts this weekend.
I’ll soon find out which activity is more unpleasant.
As you meander around town this weekend, eating normal, tasty foods and disregarding the solidity of your meals, please take a moment to wish me well and for a normal recovery. Or better yet, the magical disappearance of my wisdom teeth.
Fortunately I’m married, so my wife should be able to take good care of me – and keep me far, far away from LaVerkin.
Garrett Wheeler is a second bachelor’s student in technical theatre design. Send any comments to wheel@cc.usu.edu.