Well friends, when I last posted in my Sentence A Day post for November 2025, I was dealing with some health issues and had finally discovered the culprit behind my illness: an impacted and infected wisdom tooth (or to give it the medical terminology, an “endodontic infection”).
The funny thing was I didn’t even know I had a wisdom tooth there, because it had never come through – it was buried in my jaw bone.
But then I got really sick in November.
It started with a sore throat bug which the husbear kindly shared with me – except I just didn’t get better. You know you’re really ill when you work from home and are too sick to do any work – and I couldn’t work for about a month due to fever, sore throat, aches and exhaustion.
Even in blood tests all that came up was “inflammation” as my body had succumbed to some sort of infection which took eight (yes EIGHT!) courses of antibiotics to clear up.
Mystified, my GP asked me if I had any sores that hadn’t healed, wondering if that could be the culprit?
I couldn’t think of anything … until later that night I remembered the little sore that popped up near my back molar every couple of weeks. Whenever it became full of pus I’d press it with a cotton tip to clean it up, and that was it. It didn’t hurt, and my dentist had never mentioned it at any of my regular checkups.
Turns out it was a dental fistula – a tiny drainage hole in the gum that releases pus from an area of infection (sorry if this is TMI!).
It was only after a cone beam dental scan (did you know there’s only two places in Queensland where you can get this done?!) that we learned that my jawbone had been harbouring this unwelcome guest for years.
The verdict from the specialist? The tooth had to go!
Of course by then it was the busy lead up to Christmas, and Australia pretty much closes down for holidays until at least halfway through January, so my surgery was scheduled for 5th February.
The Day of my Jaw Surgery
Yes, surgery. While I was relieved that it would happen while I was under a general anaesthetic, rather than in the dentist’s chair, I had NO idea what I was in for (and probably just as well). Having a wisdom tooth removed when you’re in your 50s is no picnic even without complications, due to the roots being deeply entrenched. But this was just the start …
The procedure itself went fine – at least I assume it did, because I was blissfully unaware!
Just before midnight that evening I was discharged from hospital, and headed home to start my recovery.
A Rocky Recovery
If I thought the surgery was the hard part, I was mistaken.
The first few days were the usual mix of swelling, tenderness and trying to remember which medication I was meant to take next. Mostly I slept due thanks to the heavy duty painkillers I was on (I had to sleep sitting up for over a week, so just as well I was drugged to the eyeballs!).
The first couple of days weren’t too bad — lots of ice packs, soft food, and Netflix as I was snuggled into our corner lounge. I even wore normal clothes, and was feeling quite smug about how well I was handling the whole thing!
Then Day 5 arrived.
And it absolutely walloped me.
I could only eat soft foods like soup (but not too hot!), ice cream and apple puree – and the sweet things gave me bad reflux.
The worst part was the medication and related side effects. I was on antibiotics that required me to EAT or they made me sick, but I was already feeling sick and struggling with the reflux I’ve already mentioned. (Not surprisingly, I lost five kilograms in that first couple of weeks!).
Oh, and then I developed that wonderful female reaction to antibiotics – a raging yeast infection.
The painkillers gave me the WORST constipation I’ve ever had in my life, so I took a laxative. But it was one I’d never had before, and it DEFINITELY did not agree with me. I ended up with terrible stomach cramps and nausea for about 3 or 4 days afterwards (though it did help with the constipation).
Not to mention an aching, throbbing jaw.
The Plot Twist
Back to the specialist I went for my post-op check up – and I came home in tears.
Not only was the wound infected, but the surgeon had explained that the tooth was so awkwardly positioned that he had been forced to leave the tips of the roots in place to avoid damaging the nerve. I was devastated – wasn’t the whole point of the exercise to get rid of the damn thing and the associated infection?! But during the surgery my jaw bone was bending so much it was about to break, so they made the difficult decision to leave it be!
Back home again, I was rinsing and gargling with an antiseptic mouthwash constantly, popping paracetamol and penicillin every couple of hours, using cold packs on my jaw, sleeping sitting up, and feeling pretty darn miserable.
By this stage I was beginning to realise that recovery from this particular dental adventure was going to be a marathon, not a sprint.
The Slow Road Back
One of the most surprising things has been just how up and down the recovery is.
Some days I’ve felt almost normal. Other days my jaw would ache again, or I’d feel unusually tired. I like to lie on THAT side to sleep but that’s been too uncomfortable, although at least I don’t have to sleep sitting up anymore!
It is only now, six weeks post surgery, that I have fully returned to work and “normal” life.
I’m still not allowed hard or crunchy foods for another six to eight weeks. No steak, chips, nuts, seeds, pork crackling, churros … you get the idea. Apparently while the skin has healed over, beneath it there is a big hole in my jaw. We wondered why I didn’t have a bone graft; but at my post op checkup the specialist explained that taking a graft involved taking a piece of dead bone, and then placing it in an area of dead bone (thanks to the long term infection). It would never have “taken”, so I have to wait for it to re-grow and heal on its own.
I’ve had to shelve my high protein diet for the duration and am eating a lot more carbs than I normally would. I’m still down a couple of kilos but my blood sugar will no doubt be up – not much I can do about that, so I may as well enjoy it for now!
When I tell people I’ve had a wisdom tooth removed, they just don’t understand how awful it’s been. So I’ve taken to saying I’ve had “jaw surgery” which is not only true, it’s a much better way to describe it, as it seems to help others understand how painful and serious it has all been.
I presented an SEO workshop for the Brisbane Business Hub on 26th February which has been booked for months, and managed okay but it really was too soon. I was completely wiped out for about three days afterwards, and my jaw ached from talking so much!
More Jaw Surgery!
Unfortunately this is not the end of my tale of woe.
Apparently the wisdom tooth on the other side is in even worse condition. I don’t really understand but apparently my body thinks the tooth is a foreign body so is attacking it.
The infected tooth was the priority for removal this time around – but I’ll have to go through it all again in a year or two, once my jaw has had a chance to heal and grow strong again.
I always thought I was one of the “lucky” ones when my bottom wisdom teeth never came through, but it turns out the opposite was true. And to think – many years ago, one dentist jokingly called me a “missing link”, proof that humans were evolving beyond these troublesome, unnecessary teeth.
So here I am: older, slightly wiser, and with a newfound respect for the chaos a tooth you can’t even see can cause. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: NEVER ignore the small, strange signs your body sends you,
For now, I’m focusing on healing, trying to be patient with my body, and appreciating the simple joys of eating comfortably (even if it’s still mostly soft food). And when it’s time to face round two … well, at least I’ll be going in with my eyes wide open.
Jaw surgery: ZERO STARS. Do not recommend.
