Extraction to Infection: Hospitalized Journey . Part 1
July is always a tricky month for me. While summer usually brings high and sunny vibes (well, as much as it can in the Netherlands...), it also brings back memories of one of the most impactful moments of my life. Ten years ago, I had to get my wisdom teeth extracted. What should have been a routine recovery turned into a life-changing ordeal.
Reflecting on major life events through an astrological lens has been very therapeutic for me, in addition to seeking professional help. Two years ago, I began writing everything down to cope with PTSD flare-ups. Now, on the 10-year anniversary, it felt like the right time to re-upload my previously removed blog posts to revisit and process the effects of that situation.
Outside of an experienced that, very cliche, shaped me into the person I am today. It is also an interesting story to see the astrology lining up around that time. So it is also one of those “Astrology Good” stories, where a lesson can be learned.
Yes, she indeed likes to share knowledge! Thats what you get when a 9th house MC has it’s ruler Jupiter in the 3rd house. That axis is all about knowledge and learning.
Before diving into my story, a quick trigger warning: If you're afraid of the dentist, hospitals, or surgeries, this might be a tough read. Everything turned out fine in the end, but I don't shy away from sharing my full experience. So, without further ado, I invite you to step into Part 1 of my Trauma Train...
(Air Mercury, can you tell?)
On the 17th of July, I had scheduled an appointment to extract my three remaining wisdom teeth. The dentist observed that they were growing in different directions, which could eventually affect my smile. He decided it was best to remove them. Perfectly fine, of course. No biggie. I had done one prior, so even though I was scared shitless, I knew it was a standard procedure that would be painful but worthwhile in the end.
So, off I went to the appointment. Everything went well, and I went home to rest and recover. Swelling started to grow, as it should. I took my painkillers and iced it extensively. On Friday and Saturday, the pain only got worse, as did the swelling. I mean, nothing out of the ordinary after getting your teeth extracted. No fever, so everything must've been "part of the process."
Sunday the 20th was the first time I started to worry. Something felt off, and I didn’t trust the pain or the way it looked one bit. The left side of my face was swollen. What started as swelling on my cheek had now moved towards my neck. The swelling started to hang, and the pain was nearly unbearable. I wasn’t able to fully open my mouth, and even the slightest touch on my skin was excruciating. I made a quick call to the doctor to discuss what to do, and they mentioned that if I didn’t have a fever, there was no chance of an infection and no need to worry. I checked my temperature and didn’t have a fever, so I brushed it off and thought that I should suck it up, welcoming my “it is what it is” mode.
For some weird reason, I decided to photograph the swelling on my face, not realizing that I was immortalizing the beginning of this life-changing story.
Thursday 17th - Friday 18th
Saturday 19th - Sunday 20th
Monday 21st - Tuesday 22nd
My close circle at the time were clear on the fact that this was not normal and urged me to go to the ER if I didn’t trust what was happening in my body. It was as if that was the green light to listen to my own intuition, which is crazy in and of itself—a big aspect of this whole event, but we’ll get to that another time.
Anyway, we went to the ER. I got myself checked. No bloodwork done, just some simple checks. They gave me extra painkillers, some wooden ice cream sticks to gradually stretch my jaw open, and the advice to cool my face with an ice pack because “some people's pain tolerance is worse than others.” Aight, cool. I went back home, into bed, high as a kite from the painkillers. The next day, Monday, I called again because the painkillers weren’t helpful at all. They gave me permission to double my dosage. I gave it a chance, but unfortunately, it did not reduce the pain.
On Tuesday, things went south real quick. It was hot outside, and I was "trying" to enjoy summer with a frozen pack of peas on my face. I started to faint and was thereafter brought to the ER to get myself checked again. Since I was “the girl with a painful wisdom teeth extraction”, they gave the same lame responses and mentioned that the “only” thing they could do was run some blood tests to see if I had any signs of heightened infection rates in my blood. After hours of waiting, they found out that my infection rates were sky high. High alert time. All of a sudden, I was scheduled for an emergency scan to get a closer look at what was happening in my face. The results came back indicating that I had a bacterial infection in one of the extraction wounds. The mood of the caretakers changed quickly, and within a couple of hours, I went from “the girl with bad luck who was just in a lot of pain” to "the girl we need to prepare ASAP for the OR." Yes, I needed to have emergency surgery.
I always joked about wanting to go under full anesthesia one day—blame my quirky 8th house Aquarius stellium. So, in a weird way, I was excited for a new experience, though utterly terrified at the same time. All good. I was already happy that I was being taken seriously, seen, and treated. The hospital staff were comforting and nice, so let’s get it over with! It was a standard procedure where they’d put a drain under my jaw. Pretty much an in-and-out type of surgery that went well. I had to spend the night in the hospital and got lucky to be sharing a room with a guy who farted all night. So best believe I was looking forward to going home the next day.
HA, so I thought...
Wednesday arrived, and I underwent further testing. I noticed it was unusually quiet throughout the day until the doctors returned with some news about the results. They mentioned that my case was too complex for their hospital, and they had decided to transfer me to a larger academic hospital in another town. Luckily, it was the same hospital I had frequented since I was about 4 years old, as my mom works there. Initially, not fully aware of the severity, I thought: “NICE”. An ambulance was arranged for the transfer. I felt confused when it sank in that I was going by ambulance instead of my own transportation. It literally didn’t sync in what was going on. It all happened as if I was watching a movie. All I could do was just watch it unfold. (Was that Neptune calling?)
I vividly recall being in the ambulance from Delft to Rotterdam. It's about a 30-minute drive where they had to watch out for every bump in the road. My face hurt so bad that even the slightest movement of the car would tear me up.
At the new hospital, I was assigned to a room with three others, and the staff continued to monitor the infection. Regular checks, antibiotics, and painkillers were on the to-do list. Luckily, these painkillers were a lot stronger than the ones I had back home, so I had (nearly) nothing to complain about. Accompanied by my iPad and iPod, Netflix and Spotify were working overtime.
On Thursday, 24th , a week after the initial extraction, I underwent another round of testing. New scans were conducted to check how the infection had progressed, and for the first time, they mentioned the possibility of a second surgery. This was confusing and didn’t sit well with me. Why would I need another surgery? I had already undergone one. A little bubble burst right then and there because clearly the first one hadn’t helped.
But okay, if the second surgery would ultimately fix it, then it had to happen…
In part 2, I’ll follow up on what happened next. I go deeply into this story because it’s impossible to tell it briefly, especially with its astrological connections. Keep an eye on the blog or IG to see when part 2 will be up.
This was just the beginning...