Budapest Day 4: Extractions

I barely arrived on time for my extractions. I was planning on a hearty breakfast, but realized I didn't have time. I figured I'd have time after my cleaning. I was scheduled to come back that evening for my extractions. After being escorted back to the dental chair I find out that plans have changed; this appointment is going to be both the cleaning and the extractions. I'm not all that distressed by the news, a few hours difference hardly mattered.

I try my best to relax as she injects me with Novocaine. She keeps telling me to relax as she's injecting lava into my jaw. If I hadn't had a large needle in my mouth I would have explained that I wasn't tense so much as I was in pain. After she was finished I tried futilely to explain that I'm not especially nervous, this is just how I look.

The cleaning was quite routine, now it was extraction time. She tried a few times to get me to close my eyes, I explained that I'm less nervous when I can see what's coming. She relented, and came at me with a chisel. She then started working on my lower tooth with a wide range of pliers. Over and over she kept telling me to relax, and I'm wondering what exactly I'm supposed to do. My mouth is open, I'm not squirming or crying. I tried to loosen the death grip on the chair and focus on my breathing leaving only my toes to curl in my boots. My lower tooth really didn't want to come out of my mouth, she had to call in her assistant to hold my head while she wrenched on my stubborn lower tooth using the headrest of my chair for leverage. All the while she keeps telling me to relax, like it's something I'm intentionally not doing.

After what felt like 20 minutes, I finally hear the crack and ripping of my tooth coming out. I commented that my tooth really didn't want to come out.

"It was because you were nervous," the dentist replied. "If you weren't so tense this wouldn't have taken so long."

I stifled a giggle as I imagined my nervous gums holding on extra tightly to the tooth. I wasn't being difficult, I'm certain of that. She only had to stop once to give me more Novocaine when I said I could feel pain. Then again, she had also told me earlier that I was shouting because I was listening to my iPod while I was talking to her. I tried to explain that no, it was off. That I was listening to a talk show and it would literally be impossible for me to form sentences when I had someone else talking in my ears. I never altered the volume of my voice, but from then on I removed my headphones before speaking. She never again complained that I was "shouting." It just goes to show that perception really is reality.

The second tooth came out easier than the first, but it was by far not a quick extraction. This time I knew I was finally relaxed, I was no longer gripping the chair arms or curling my toes. I knew I had enough Novocaine in me that she could break my jaw and I wouldn't feel it. During one of the plier exchanges I asked if there was anything I could do to help or if I needed to relax more.

"No, you're doing fine," she replied. "Sometimes wisdom teeth are just hard to remove."

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After more wrenching my upper tooth finally ripped free. As I was biting down on the gauze she was telling me what I could and could not do for the next night. No food or drink until I completely have the feeling back in my mouth. I ask how long that will take and she tells me it will take six hours minimum. I think about my lack of breakfast and what an error that choice turned out to be. I was also told I couldn't have dairy products, so there goes my ice cream.

So what is there to do in Budapest when you can't eat or drink and one side of your face is swollen and paralyzed? Go to the House of Terror of course.