I Wanna Be Sedated (or at least that’s what I keep telling myself).

I’ve been putting it off for almost ten years but tomorrow is the day.  I’m getting my wisdom teeth removed.  All four of them.  And I’m slightly terrified.  To gather my thoughts (and my nerves) I wrote today’s post in list form.  Yes, I find lists comforting (maybe I should add that to the comforts section…).

The Fears

• I’m nervous about waking up with a blood glucose that is wildly out of range and having to deal with a potential spike or low during surgery from an incorrect correction.  (Oh diabetes, you’re just full of oxymorons.).
• I keep singing the Ramones over and over, trying to convince myself that I do, in fact, want to be sedated.  As much as I love the Ramones, it’s not working.  Sedation scares the daylights out of me. (No pun intended.  Ah, who am I kidding.  Pun intended.)
• Why does sedation scare the daylights out of me? 1) As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m afraid I won’t wake up.  2) I’m terrified of having a low while I’m ‘under.’  3) I hate that term, ‘under.’ Totally creepy.
• While not exactly a fear, I’m not thrilled that, in 24 hours time, I’m going to look like a cheeks-fully-stocked-with-chestnuts-in-preparation-for-the-cold-hard-winter-ahead tree squirrel who recently lost (quite badly, I might add) to the lightweight champion of the world.  In other words, swollen and bruised.

The Comforts

• My endocrinologist is always at the other end of his cell phone.  About a week ago, he called to go over my fasting/insulin needs the night before the surgery.  Stellar.  At that time he told me that if I felt flustered or needed help after the extraction, I was more than welcome to call.  Double stellar.
• My uncle is a dentist and, like my endo, is also always at the other end of his cell phone.  My aunt sent me an email with his number, as well as a litany of post extraction advice.  For example, I was instructed to get extra gauze pads because I most likely won’t be given enough and I’ll have to change the packing every half hour until bleeding stops.  Gross.
• Daniel got the day off work to take care of me.  This is probably the biggest comfort of the bunch.
• Smoothies.  I love them.  The fact that they are an approved post-wisdom-teeth-removal indulgence pleases me.  I even splurged on some frozen mango to add to the mix.  Mmm.
• While I’m well aware I’ll never get through them all, I have stacked a veritable mother load of movies on top of our DVD player in preparation for my recovery:
  -Titanic (My go-to sick day movie.  Cheesy, tragic, epic.  Perfect for making a girl feel better about her own situation.)
  -Ken Burns’s Baseball
  -Harry Potter 1-6.
  -A large subset of the complete works of Hayao Miyazaki.
  -A bunch of Masterpiece Theatre productions.

Alright, I’m off to rock out to some more of Road to Ruin.  Wish me luck!  Oh, and I’d love any advice that you might have!

Deep Pockets: Diabetes and Dental Health

I wish I got free swag at all my medical appointments!

Today, my dental hygienist told me that I have deep pockets.  At first, I wondered, “Deep pockets?  Extensive wealth?!  Does my hygienist know something about my finances that I don’t know?”  But, as it turned out, she did not.  No reference to my pants pockets brimming with free-flowing cash here.  Shucks.  Instead, she was referring to my periodontal pockets (I should have guessed).

People with diabetes run a greater risk of developing serious gum disease (compared to the general, non-diabetic population) and deep periodontal pockets set the stage for this oral health problem.  Great.  My dentist told me that periodontal depths in the range of two to three are good, fives and sixes are bad.  Oh boy, more numbers! As my dentist poked around my teeth, she called out numbers to the hygienist, “Three, two, three.  Four, two, three.  Two, two, three.  Three-plus, two, four…” The majority of my numbers fell in the two to three range (my new dentistry-related favourite numbers).  However, I did have some three-pluses and a few fours.  Hence my hygienist’s comment about my deep pockets.

But I’m not too concerned about my oral health yet.  Why?

1.    My teeth are in great shape.  I was told they are strong and stain-free.  Yay, positive feedback!

2.    I hadn’t been to the dentist in over two years.  Regular check-ups and cleanings help reduce the risk of gum disease.  Needless to say, I’m now all about regular cleanings.

3.    I have stellar oral healthcare habits.  I brush, I floss and I repeat a couple times a day.  That’s really all there is to it.

4.    Even though my pockets are deeper than the average 25 year old, my hygienist informed me that, if I start coming in regularly (people with diabetes are encouraged to come in every three to four months), they should get smaller.

My hygienist also told me that the connection between diabetes and gum disease flows two-ways; diabetes means greater risk of gum disease and gum disease means poorer blood sugar control.  So, by avoiding gum disease, I figure I can avoid another factor confounding my ability to achieve great control.  And, since great control is my one true diabetes desire, that’s some serious motivation.

If you want more details about diabetes and oral health, Colgate has some good information.  Happy brushing!