SHOULD’VE DONE IT YEARS AGO, I know, but the prospect of expiring dental insurance finally got me to getting my last three wisdom teeth out, in one big operation.
Because the lower two were impacted (not only stuck beneath the gums but down there sideways), it was a big-deal surgery, with full anesthetic and prescription painkillers (just ultra-strength Motrin, not anything narcotic–don’t even ask me to sell you any leftover pills), and a long at-home rehab.
Fortunately, I live in the age of cyber-capitalism and media saturation, so being groggy and alone at home all day wasn’t that much of a bother. Not with the modern conveniences available today.
Modern convenience #1: Kozmo.com. Begun in NYC last year and now operating in four cities, Kozmo (yes, the name’s a variant on Seinfeld’s Cosmo Kramer) delivers video rentals, snack foods, and a small selection of books and CDs. And it’s actually them doing the delivering, not some overnight service. That means in the approximate time-frame of a pizza delivery, you can start viewing any of 16,000 flicks. (Not enough of my favorite obscurities and cult-classics, but a serviceable-enough list.)
Modern convenience #2: CBC Television. My cable company finally brought the Canadian channel back, so once again view its unique public-broadcasting-with-commercials mix. In many ways it’s what PBS could’ve been if it ever had the nerve–investigative news-magazine shows, family dramas, un-cloying family dramas, late-night nudie “art” movies, sharp political satire, newscasts that actually cover foreign non-earthquake stories, great sports (currently: lotsa hockey; coming in January: curling!), and the venerable British soap Coronation Street!
Modern convenience #3: Home Grocer. They only deliver the day following your online order, but you don’t have to leave the house to be supplied with your post-oral-surgery dietary needs (diet shakes, yogurt, Gatorade, applesauce, cocoa, et al.).
Modern convenience #4: Modern oral-surgery technique. I went in and was promptly strapped to the operating chair, given the anesthetic gas and then a knockout shot. An hour later I was gently aroused and led, groggy, onto a day bed in a darkened “recovery room.” A half-hour after that, a friend led me downstairs to a waiting taxi. Except for three new mouth holes and an achy jaw, I was sufficiently clear-headed to resume working for at least a few hours the following day.
Old-fashioned inconvenience #1: Dry sockets. A surgical complication I was led to believe only smokers had to worry about. Instead, pieces of my first post-surgical meal (soft French fries with the skin on) got stuck deep in the gum folds of both lower extraction sites, beyond the reach of any salt-water rinse or Listerine, preventing the blood clot needed for wound-healing.
The result: Five days of excruciating pain, starting two days after the operation. Pain ultimately unrelievable by the pills prescribed to me or by any other legal substances (and I didn’t use any illegal ones). Pain that prevented sleep and caused near-hallucinatory states. All that, plus two bouts of nausea, before I could get back to the surgeon for a medicinal-gauze implant.
But walking to the Medical-Dental Building for the second appointment, I had to pass the Bon Marche’s breast-cancer-awareness window displays, and remembered my mother’s recent bout with the disease (she’s doing very well now, thank you).
It put my own non-life-threatening suffering into perspective.
TOMORROW: Could The Blair Witch Project be considered a Dogme 95 movie?
ELSEWHERE:
