Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

WisdomTeeth

Padded chair with arms too long; plastic protector crinkling as I slide in.I'm nervous, but I try not to show it as the anesthesiologist puts a BP cuff on my arm, a pulse monitor on my finger, and a gas mask on my nose.
My heart beats audibly on a screen,and suck in the gas in quick deep gulps when she leaves me. My legs feel like lead, and the heaviness is spreading like a slow wildfire, numbing my fingers, and then my arms.
She returns in a mini eternity, swabbing my wrist with an alcohol pad before slowly sliding the needle in, but this vein is not good enough. The needle slides back out, and pokes into the crook of my arm.
I watch the ceiling, and my surgeon walks in, holding up a long sharp needle, and squeezing its contents out partially before injecting the needle into my IV.
I do not realize I am gone until I wake up, ad only then, it is not full consciousness. I'm in and out. My wisdom teeth are gone.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback