Wisdom

2001.

The human body is a funny thing. It has a funny bone that burns like liquid hot magma when you hurt it; it has an organ whose very name speaks to its superfluous nature until it bursts and tries to kill one of my friends; it has teeth that don't fit in the skull. At least most people's skulls these days.

I had to get my wisdom teeth out when I was 17. I had it scheduled for Christmas break so I wouldn't miss class as I recovered.

I went to the office early for my appointment. I was nervous. I had never been put under before and it was sort of unknown and scary. When I was set in the chair ready to be operated on, the doctor had to put the anesthesia to put me under in my arm. He looked around for my vein. He said, "Hmm." That was not comforting. He eventually found a vein and stuck me. He then told me to count backwards from 100.

"Okay. 100. 99. 9-"

I woke up some time later. I shot up out of the chair and started walking to the exit so I could get in the car and be shuttled home. All the while I thought I was walking straight. This was not the case. A nurse had been assisting me in not falling over. My mom took over and placed me in the car. I went home, and with aid, made it to bed. I slept. Slept hard.

I awoke in pain. But that's why God invented painkillers.