So, last Friday I went in to have my wisdom teeth out. As I mentioned in an earlier post, my friends and colleagues (sp?) were kind enough to share with me a number of scary stories and pieces of advice, ranging from why I should have the procedure done under general anesthesia, under local anesthesia, or with no anesthesia at all. And why I shouldn't have them taken out at all. And why I should have had them taken out when I was a teen. Etc., etc., etc.

Well, the long and the short of it is that I went in on Friday, and was put under general anesthesia for the first time in my life. This was the oral surgeon's preference, not mine. I guess his job is easier if he doesn't have his patient awake and objecting to the way he smashes around in their mouth.

There was no "count back from ten" kind of moment for me that many others describe. Instead, they kept up conversation with me while they were running the IV and setting up to do the procedure.

"It should be easy to find a vein," I said to the lady running the IV.

"Well, it was actually kinda hiding there."

"Hmph. I used to donate blood all the time, and they said I had good veins."

"Oh, really?"

"I don't donate blood anymore. They won't take it." I was starting to get groggy.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"I spent some time in England."

In unison, both the anesthesiologist, the oral surgeon's assistant, and I said, "Mad Cow disease."

Then someone asked, "How long where you there?" Something in her voice made me think she was kind of testing me. Like, to see if I knew the answer.

"Oh, three months," I said. See? I *did* know the answer.

And then I woke up.

It was exactly like waking up from a sleep. None of this "missing time" phenomenon I've had described to me. I fell asleep without realizing it, but then I woke up. My jaw was a little sore.

"Can you stand up?"

Um. "Are we done?"

"Yep. Here, let me help you." She led me into another room. And so began the process of realizing that there were now holes where I used to have four teeth.

In the days that have followed, I have followed the doctor's advice. I have taken the drugs they advised me to take. I have applied an ice pack. I took naps the first couple days. The swelling has been kept to a minimum. The soreness, although never outrageous, has been constantly annoying. Fortunately, it hasn't been debilitating. In short, as I have followed the doctor's advice, I seem to be heading in the right direction, healing-wise. I've even started eating food that's a little more solid than Jello Chocolate Pudding.

Now, if I could just figure out why, when I woke up, I was in a hotel room in Vegas, and how I got that scar where my kidney is supposed to be, I'll be all set....