I’ve always been a dental DISASTER. XD
My long saga begins all the way back in the 90s. Back in
1999, when I was in Year Seven at Shailer
Park State School
Bemused mother takes me home, telling me, “Well, I’ve heard
of kids being born missing teeth, but you’re the first kid I’ve ever heard of
that’s got extra teeth. It must be all the milk that you drink.”
I’m not sure why the long wait, but it’s not until 2001,
when I’m in Year Nine at Canterbury College
Seeing that it’s only three years from happening two decades
ago, obviously I’ve barely any recollection of it. Someone put me under general
anaesthesia, and some dental surgeon called Dr. Christopher Chahoud takes out
all seven teeth. The only memory I have of that event is reaching home
afterwards, mother taking me upstairs and putting me to sleep in their ensuite
master bedroom, the only room with air conditioning. Obviously, I walk around
with big puffy cheeks for awhile afterwards; the only plus to that was having
ice cream for dinner at night, because I’m obviously too swollen to eat
anything! XD
Later that year, my dentist fits me for braces. Hey, am not
I a loyal customer? I’ve seen Kelvin Leung at Market Square Dental since 1999;
next year will mark two DECADES I’ve been seeing Kelvin for teeth care! Why I
like seeing Kelvin: his practice always has the most recent gossip mags! When I
commend this fact to him several years ago, he told me it was because once he
had to attend some appointment and, sitting down in the waiting room, he picked
up some magazine and was disgusted that the mag was three years old! “Never
will my practice stock such out-of-date magazines,” he declares. Not only that,
he tells the receptionist to leave me all of the previous month’s gossip mags!
She does so happily, confiding to me, “We only throw the old ones out.”
Actually, one time mother and I were standing at the counter; mother was paying
one receptionist. Suddenly, there’s a tap on my shoulder and I turn around.
There, holding a big stack of gossip mags, is the other receptionist! Holding
them out to me with one hand, she places one finger over her lips with her
other hand, cautioning me to ‘shh’. I nod, grin and flush her the thumbs up; when
mother turns around and sees me holding the stack of gossip mags, she
screeches, “Emily!” to which I smirk and say, “What? You were paying, and
suddenly these magazines just floated over to me all by themselves! I think
they’re meant for me, don’t you?” Both receptionists burst out laughing; mother
just gives an exasperated sigh and orders me out the door. XD
But back to braces. They are annoying: firstly, since I’m
Cantonese and have rice for dinner nearly every night, after finishing almost
every dinner I must spend the next several minutes teasing the grains of rice
that have gotten stuck in between every. Single. Brace! XD Secondly, they HURT.
When I had braces, I’d see Kelvin for a check-up once a month. Often, he’d
tighten the braces, leaving my mouth sore and tingly and restricting me to like
tofu for the next several days, until my mouth got used to the newest
adjustment. Luckily I like tofu! XD Not only that, I suffered from an overbite.
I think that’s when the upper jaw protrudes out from the lower jaw, although it
could just be as easily the other way around. Take your pick; you’ve got a
fifty-fifty chance of picking the right one! XD To correct this problem, Kelvin
had me put elastics on my braces; I think to pull the jaw closer together?
Dental people, please correct me if I’m wrong. XD They were given cute animal
names, like, smaller animals for the lighter elastics and bigger animals for
the stronger ones. I didn’t like them because obviously, they hurt. XD
I wore my braces for three years; after they were finally
taken off I kept running my tongue over my teeth coz I couldn’t get over the
fact how SMOOTH my teeth were! XD
If only that were the end of all my dental disasters but
alas, that surely wasn’t the case.
Fast forward to 2007. The cruel and unfaithful God has so
wantonly destroyed my life by smiting me down with the brain tumour, botched
surgery and subsequent stroke, leaving me a useless disabled bum. While I’m in
the insane asylum (more commonly known to everyone else as the Brain injuries
Rehab Unit of the Princess Alexandra hospital XD) I’m booked in to see Kelvin.
Why I actually remember that check-up: back them I’m really not mobile (to be
honest, I’m still not; alas ><); in fact, I attend that appointment in my
manual wheelchair!
After I’ve transferred myself to the dental chair and
Kelvin’s had a dig around my mouth, he remarks that my teeth have become all
smooth. “Do you grind your teeth at night by any chance?” He remarks. I’m about
to reply, “Um, I’m asleep, how would I know?” when mother, who for some reason
isn’t outside in the waiting room but inside with me sitting on an extra chair
in the room, jumps in and exclaims, “Oh yes she does; I’ve heard her! It’s
really noisy and she makes this ‘sark sark’ sound at night!”
Actually, correction: mother informs me that I’ve worn my
mouth splint even before my brain injury. I wear that splint every night before
sleeping, and while the splint doesn’t prevent me from grinding my teeth, it
ensures I only grind the splint and don’t further grind away my teeth. Turns
out my mouth’s hard at work even while I’m asleep: I’ve clean ground away two
mouth splints already and am onto my third! XD Still, the damage has been done;
turns out ground-away teeth don’t grow back like fingernails do! I’m rather
disappointed; my teeth having gone all smooth means I’m not really not a fan of
eating chewy meat like beef simply because since I’ve ground my teeth away, I’m
not really good with chewing anymore. Indeed, should the parents cook beef for
dinner, after the meal I often report a slightly achy jaw to mother, coz I’ve
had to work so hard chewing the meat. Nowadays, mother kindly gets the scissors
and snips my beef into lil tidbits for me, thus making for easier chewing.
One (hopefully! XD) final story in my dental disaster saga:
wisdom teeth! Several six month checkups ago, Kelvin takes an x-ray of my mouth
and reports that my wisdom teeth are starting to come out. “Awesome, I’ll start
becoming wise!” I cheer, but his next words dash my hopes. “Sorry, they’re
coming out crooked. If they keep coming out like that, you’ll have to get them
removed.” I think he said the top ones were more a problem than the bottom
ones, coz they were growing more crookedly and thus impacting on my regular
teeth? I’m like, “Oh, there goes my chance of ever becoming wise…” but I
immediately perk up again, “But that means I’ll get ice cream for dinner at
night again; awesome!”
Anyways, Kelvin keeps an eye on my wisdom teeth for me,
taking regular x-rays, and come July this year reports the time has come to get
them removed. He says he’s been using the same dental surgeon his entire career
and that he’s very good; I’m booked in to see him for an appointment. Seeing
that he’s always used the same dental surgeon, any chance that it’ll be the
same guy that took out all my extra teeth back in 2001? I obviously wouldn’t
remember, but mother, who’s much better at remembering faces than dad or I,
does! “It’s him!” She tells me excitedly when we’re @ his private practice for
the initial appointment and he walks out and calls in his next patient. “I
recognise him; he’s not changed width wise at all but just gotten greyer!”
When my name’s called, I walk into his room, shake his hand
and take a seat. “Mother tells me that she recognises you,” I inform Dr.
Chahoud. “You took out three extra teeth plus four more for braces back in
2001, but I’m terrible with faces and don’t remember you, apologies!”
Dr. Chahoud laughs, says no worries and takes a seat
himself.
“So, tell me what’s happened to you since I last saw you
back in 2001,” says he.
“Me? Oh, nothing special. I graduated high school in 2004
and did my first two years at uni but suffered a brain injury in 2007 and have
become horribly disabled. I’m sure you noticed when I was walking into your
room.”
Dr. Chahoud nods then prompts, “Your dentist referred me to
see you because …?”
“Oh, my wisdom teeth are starting to come out but they’re
coming out crooked, so my dentist says it’s time to see you and get them taken
out. I went and had that head x-ray taken.” That was actually really cool;
instead of just being told to hold still, I held still while this revolving
camera went around my head and took x-rays!
Dr. Chahoud examines my x-rays, and then asks me, “How do
you want this to be done?”
Oh, I already know. “Please, is it possible for you to do it
under a local anaesthesia and a sedative? It’s just that I’ve heard that every
time you go under general anaesthesia, you wake up millions of times more
stupid, and since I’ve already been put under eight times following my brain
injury, if you put me under again, soon I’ll” –
Dr. Chahoud buts in cheekily, “Soon you’ll have no brain left?” I
deadpan back at him, “Actually, I was gonna say you wouldn’t be able to find
anyone more stupid than me, but yeah, I like your explanation better: I’ll have
no brain left.” We both burst into laughter after which he reassures me that
yes, he can do it under a local. Score. Next, he asks where I want the
procedure done. “Do I haveta go to a hospital like the Wesley back in 2001 when
you took seven of my teeth out?” I ask.
“Nope. I can do it here for you, if you’d like,” Dr. Chahoud
replies. Mother’s ecstatic: that means she won’t haveta drive all the way into
the city and contend with troublesome parking!
A date for the procedure’s set: mid-late July. Next I haveta
sign a consent form. As is my custom, I read the conditions carefully before
signing my life away. But there’s one clause there that worries me particularly,
and I bring it up with Dr. Chahoud. “Um, it says one possible side effect of
the procedure’s that I may lose PERMANENTLY ALL taste sensation.” Then I
wibbled dramatically at the dental surgeon and mock-wail, “But Dr. Chahoud, if
I can’t taste ice cream or chocolate anymore, how will I LIVE my life! My life
won’t be worth living anymore; I’d haveta off myself!!” More laughter from Dr.
Chahoud, before he reassures me that he’s only added that clause in just in
case and that he’s actually never known for it to happen before. So I ‘should’
be safe. Should being the operative word. XD Dr. Chahoud also asks me how would
I like to have the procedure done; like, would I like to see him four times and
have one wisdom tooth taken out each time? I immediately refuse this offer,
asking could he please just take all four out in one go? Coz I’d rather be one
big fat swollen face in pain just once rather than haveta recover four separate
times! Phew, Dr. Chahoud agrees to take all four wisdom teeth out in one go.
After signing my life away, mother drives me home, and I tell
two friends of mine that are dentists by trade over Facebook that I’m having
wisdom teeth extraction surgery next month. Their responses frighten me, I’ll
admit, one friend immediately replying, “Oh no…” and I’m like, “Don’t react
like that; you’re making me even more scared than I already am!” XD The other
friend suggests that before I have the dental surgery done, I should ask the
parents please to take me out once to eat pork ribs and another time to eat
steak, coz after that, I’m going to be reduced to like custard for awhile. Good
idea! I mention that to the mother, and she gets dearest dad to take us out to
the nearby Glen Hotel
After lunch, mother tootles me off to Browns Plains for the
procedure. Have I said already? She’s immensely grateful that she doesn’t
haveta drive me into the city for it, coz finding parking there’s notably
atrocious. Me, I’m grateful that it’s just a short walk into the clinic;
obviously mother doesn’t lemme use my manual wheelchair mostly and I had to
walk into the clinic myself.
This time, there’s no talking needed to be done; after a
short wait, I’m pointed into one of the rooms, where a big dental chair’s
waiting. A kindly dental nurse smiles at me and says Dr. Chahoud will be along
shortly; while we await his arrival we just chat about mundane things like the
weather.
Once Dr. Chahoud arrives, he gets right into it! Since he’s
agreed to extract my wisdom teeth under local anaesthesia, he immediately
starts jabbing my poor mouth with needles. For the first four stings, I’m like
ow. For the next four, I’m like, argh, are you finished yet?! For the four
after that, I’m like, okay, I think you’ve killed my mouth. TWELVE jabs!
>< *wails* Yeah, I’m a wuss. XD Hey, but I didn’t outwardly react at all.
You gotta gimme some credit, surely? XD Dr. Chahoud lets mother stay in
the room and hold my hand while he pricks me with shot after shot after shot.
Once that’s done, he plants himself squarely in front of mother and orders,
“Get out.” In fact, afterwards mother claims he like barrelled her outta the
operating room!
But when Dr. Chahoud comes back and starts extracting my
wisdom teeth, he’s become very gentle, calling me endearments like ‘darling’,
‘sweetheart’ and even ‘princess’! Lol, what a difference: at home mother
usually just calls me derogatory names like ‘stinky’ and ‘pig’. XD
There’s quite a heavy wrenching sensation and cracking
noises while Dr. Chahoud and his dental nurse are inside my mouth, but luckily
absolutely no pain; Dr. Chahoud must’ve injected the local anaesthesia in all
the right places.
When it’s all over, Dr. Chahoud says I may sit up. I do so
slowly and gingerly, in case I’m hit with dizziness/nausea/whatever, but
luckily, am fine.
The dental surgeon smiles at me. “Are you okay?” He asks me.
“How are you feeling?”
“I presume the local anaesthesia hasn’t worn off yet, coz
I’m feeling just peachy/dandy. May I say bye to them?” I reply.
Dr. Chahoud’s momentarily confused. “Say bye to what?”
“My wisdom teeth, of course! Now that you’ve pulled them
out, I’m never gonna be wise so I just wanna see them one last time and say bye
to my wisdom that never had time to develop.”
The dental surgeon laughs, replies “Sure!” and instructs me
to lie back down while he asks his dental nurse to please fetch my teeth for
me.
Once they’ve arrived, I sit back up, glance into the silver
dish (dunno what that’s called … petrie (sp?) dish? No, that was what I think I
used for science experiments back during high school. XD) and do a double take.
At first glance, there are like TWELVE teeth there! Nervously, I ask Dr.
Chahoud, “Um, you were supposed to just take out my four wisdom teeth, only at
first glance, there are like twelve teeth there! Did you really just take out
my four wisdom teeth, or did you go trigger happy and pull out every tooth
inside my mouth?! Is my mouth now like empty bar from my tongue??” Dr. Chahoud
laughs before reassuring me that he really only did extract my four wisdom
teeth, that I’ve still got all the rest of my regular teeth inside my mouth and
the reason why there’s so many pieces inside that little silver bowl/dish is
because they (the teeth) didn’t come out cleanly and he had to break them.
Well, phew. Here I was, nervous that I’d be reduced to like tofu for the rest
of my life. XD
Actually, I wanted to take a photo of them, my little pieces
of wisdom that I’ll never have, but bet mother wouldn’t appreciate being asked
to take a photo of sth coated here and there with blood. XD Instead, I wave bye
to all the wisdom that never had the time to develop, say thanks to the nurse
and also apologise sheepishly to her, because after extraction she’d
immediately thrown them in the bin and when I’d requested to see them again,
Dr. Chahoud had actually sent her back outside to the disposal bins to retrieve
them for me! XD
After I stand back up, I shake Dr. Chahoud’s hand, say
thanks then take a quick seat back outside in the waiting room, while mother
settles the bill. That done, we head back out into the car; I’m grateful that
our car wasn’t parked too faraway and I don’t haveta walk too far before
reaching it.
Before driving us home, mother rings dearest dad to let him
know that the procedure’s done, I’m still alive and we’re going home now. XD
Back home, Tina’s the carer/life coach/support
worker/whatever they’re called now XD who’s minding me from 4pm till 6pm . As
usual, I head into the bathroom for my shower. Nowadays, I always test the
water temperature on my right foot to check that the water’s the right warmth
because my left limbs are demented and I don’t wanna accidentally burn myself
if I test the water there first and it’s too hot. Once it’s hot enough, I move
the showerhead up to my tummy to wet myself and am just about to move it up to
my head to start wetting my hair so I can wash it, when suddenly I cough and
spit BLOOD down my front! I say levelly, “Tina, could you please go get my mum
for me? I need her,” but inside I’m like OMG I’m coughing BLOOD up!! ><
When mother appears I’m like, “Um, nursey mum please help I swear I didn’t fill
my mouth with water like you warned me against but suddenly I just coughed up
blood and honestly I didn’t do anything because the water only just got hot…”
Mother says it’s fine and open up your mouth so I can take a look inside then
reassures me there’s nothing to worry about because Dr. Chahoud stuffed your
mouth with gauze after the surgery and to keep showering.
Afterwards for arvo tea, I suck on a little tub of chocolate
mousse. Why that chocolate mousse would have tasted superior to any other
chocolate mouse: the plastic peel lids were decorated with MINIONS. XD
Actually, mother was funny: during morning tea at church one morning, after I’d
bewailed to someone that I was having all my wisdom teeth taken out and would
be restricted to only soft food for awhile, mother had loudly informed everyone
within earshot that she was gonna buy me like custard, jelly and other soft
foods so that I would stay fed when I was too swollen to chew anything, but
when I asked her was she gonna buy said soft food for me while I was attending
ESS and dearest dad Bible study, when she and all her aunty friends were having
their very informal ‘fellowship’ (dunno why she insists calling it that, it’s
really nothing more than a coffee and gossip session) she replied sth like,
“Why would I do that? No, you can buy them with me yourself.’ Huh, hyprocrite:
why the need to loudly announce your (false) intentions to everyone present
during morning tea?? *sigh* No matter, my chocolate mousse definitely did taste
better for the minion picture attached to the top. XD
Dr. Chahoud actually put me on a course of antibiotics; I
was unsure why, coz I didn’t have an infection! Was it for prevention? That
just brings up the topic of overmedication: should we pump our bodies full of
antibiotics before we have any need to?
For the first night, mother actually props my head up on one
extra pillow; I think when I left Dr. Chahoud’s dental place I’d received a
note saying do that to keep swelling down? Only the next morning I woke up with
a wry neck (say ‘fun lai geng’ in Canto) and informed mother, who removed it,
saying I wasn’t very swollen so didn’t need the extra support. Actually, all
kudos goes to Chahoud, who performed the surgery so skilfully that I didn’t
swell too badly at all!
Obviously, there was some apparent swelling, like the
pamphlet I’d received from Dr. Chahoud’s clinic before I left that afternoon
had said. It’d warned that the swelling would be the heaviest three/four days
post surgery; it just so happened that three days after my wisdom teeth
extraction, I attended GCCW at the Garbo library! After I’d entered and taken a
seat, one member glanced at me and then exclaimed, “Em, what’s happened to your
face? You’re all swollen!”
I deadpan back at him, “Yeah? Mother bashed me up this
morning. Morale of the story? Don’t piss her off.”
Boyd looks shocked for a second, and then bursts into laughter.
Obviously, I’m as bad at lying as I’ve always have been. XD After he’s finished
laughing his head off, Boyd looks at my swollen face questioningly, and this
time I tell the truth. “All wisdom teeth taken out under local anaesthesia
three days ago. Got a note from the dentist saying that swelling would be worst
three/four days post surgery; apologies if I look a fright right now.”
Boyd nods understandingly. “Guess you won’t be joining us
for morning tea then, I’m presuming?”
“Wrong!” I shoot back, reaching into my bag and taking out
my purse and fishing out the two dollar coin mother had left me. “Actually, I
BYO’d morning tea today but I’ve bought two bucks along; could you just pour me
a mug of cold milk? Don’t think I’m up to drinking anything hot like tea until
I stop walking around with a bloated face.” Boyd replies, of course!
That first night, I also got ICE CREAM for dinner! :D It’s
only ever happened once before: back in 2001, when I’d seen Dr. Chahoud and
he’d put me under general anaesthesia before removing seven teeth (the three
extra and four more so I could get braces) again, that first night, while the
parents had rice for dinner I slurped ice cream coz I was obviously too swollen
to chew anything! Same again the first night after wisdom teeth extraction.
While I love custard, the only problem with having that for
dinner’s that the ‘rice bucket’ (in Canto: farn tong) in me was miserable! Have
I explained yet? I’m not so Chinese that I need rice for breakfast, rice for
lunch and rice for dinner (because there are Chinese in China that are so
Chinese they really have rice for all three meals of the day) but I am Chinese
enough that I need rice for dinner, else I simply don’t feel full! Back when I
was young and the parents decided we’d be having hotpot for dinner, I’d most
certainly have asked the parents, can you please cook rice for dinner toms
night? Then when I was imprisoned in the insane asylum obviously rice wasn’t
served for dinner! Well, from memory, it was served for every second Tuesday
lunch (isn’t it sad that I’ve been released from the insane asylum for just
over 10.5 years and can still recite the weekly menu?? >< XD) but the
rice was like CRUNCHY, eww!! >< XD I still recall back on the 22nd
of May, 2008, the night before I was finally released from the insane asylum
forever, when my parents were leaving for the night (visiting hours ended at
8pm) I called mum back and reminded her, “Please make sure you cook me some
rice for when I come home forever tomorrow night!” I still remember, when
mother appeared sometime after midday ,
my first words upon seeing her were, “Did you cook me some rice for dinner
tonight??” When she replied in the affirmative, I was like, “Mum, you’re the
best! Oh, and sorry, hi. Let’s go home now!” XD
After wisdom teeth removal, I obviously wasn’t in any
condition to eat rice for about one week, but after the swelling had more or
less died done, mother kindly cooked extra-soggy rice, boiled some vegetables
super-soft and mixed some pork mince into the rice and vegies for me. That
night, when I sat down with the parents for dinner and had rice again, I almost
cried. XD Well, I’m being melodramatic here; I wasn’t even near crying, but I
was super-thankful to be once more eating rice again! XD
Brushing teeth and flossing was also non-existent right
after wisdom teeth extraction. At first, I just used the antiseptic gargle
three times daily (after each meal) and didn’t floss; after the swelling died
down mother instructed me to just brush the front teeth. Mother found me some
kinda gargle without alcohol; I know I’m idiotic enough to be allergic to
alcohol but isn’t that only when I consume it? Surely I wouldn’t turn bright
red/break out in hives if I only swilled it around my mouth and then spat it
out?? Anyhow, I just used the gargle thrice daily until mother deemed I’d
unswollen (apparently not a word according to Microsoft Word, nut I’m sure you
get what I mean? XD) enough to start flossing again. Nowadays, I’m obviously
unable to use dental floss like other able-bodied people coz I’ve only got one
more-or-less functioning hand. Several years back, my dentist gives me a
flosette, which is just a stick that you snap a detachable flossing thing to.
After I floss, I always spit once out into the basin. That first night, I
floss, spit and then screech, “Mum! Help, I’m BLEEDING!’ O_o Mother dashes in,
I open my mouth and whimper at her, and she peers into my mouth, before
reassuring me, “Don’t worry, you’re not bleeding. Probably your gums are still
tender from the operation. Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you when you floss
tomorrow night.”
The next night, I again gingerly floss, spit … and then
wail, “Mum! I’m STILL BLEEDING!” O_o
She peers into my mouth again and then replies calmly,
“You’re bleeding less than last night. Don’t worry, you’ll probably not bleed
tomorrow night.’
She was correct; wonder how did she know?? XD
And so endeth the long saga about my mouth being a disaster
zone; fingers crossed nothing else will ever develop! XD
Next post here … surely my yearly Xmas Greetings to
everyone; I’ve already penned most of it!
Righteo, until then~
Cheers,
Em. ^^
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