I’m sitting here, post-removal of my last two wisdom teeth, done by an Israeli doctor at my insurance clinic, and I’m feeling – wise.
For weeks, people have been warning me about getting my wisdom teeth out here – “Go to an American, go private, pay extra for gas.” Sure, it freaked me out, but I figured I’ll see how it plays out. I’m adventurous like that. I was probably able to afford the laid-backness this time around because when I got my first two teeth out in the States, they were impacted and I was knocked out with anesthetics for two hours and handed codeine on awakening. I never felt a thing.
This time, I walked into the room with sweaty palms, having probably been affected by everyone’s warnings. Honestly, the image in my head was the Chemical Brothers video. The dentist was an older Israeli with a stoic face. I sat down and laid my eyes on the tools. I decided not to say anything, and take it as it comes.
What came was a ten minute procedure, reminiscent of those old cartoons when there was a cheeky character as the dentist and he took pliers and yanked out the tooth. So ghetto! The guy actually cracked my tooth and then yanked it out. So easy, so effortless. What is everyone going on about?
On leaving, I couldn’t help but think of a friend going through the same thing today, only he opted for the private American doctor. I’m wondering when the pain will hit me, but I’m also feeling secure in knowing it’s only my mouth that’ll be in pain, and not my wallet or my pride.
Whadya got: