I was 19. I remember it almost vividly. My appointment was late in the afternoon, at 3 p.m. and I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything beforehand. My oral surgeon was very biased with procedures, and when he gave me the "choice" between anesthesia and novocaine, he told me that some patients wake up crying for no reason, screaming for no reason, laughing for no reason, and some don't wake up. Needless to say, I flipped out, chose novocaine, and I've been afraid of anesthesia ever since. By the way, novocaine was a bad idea, because even though you don't feel the pain, you hear the drills and feel the pressure. I had all 4 pulled, and it was very intense for me.
I remember being allowed to bring my discman in (I wasn't cool enough for an Ipod, lol), and I purposely chose the loudest, angriest girl music I had in my collection. Which, at the ripe old age of 19, was Avril Lavigne. That wasn't quite loud or angry enough; I still heard everything. Including the surgeon yelling at me for trying to swallow; my mouth had been open for so long, it felt like my throat was starting to close up. It was that dry.
That night, I went through all the gauze the surgeon gave me, and all the gauze that my mom had in the house. I had my stepdad buy me Jamba Juice, and since I was still numb, I had little control over my mouth. Dribbling juice down your chin at the age of 19 is pretty humiliating. The worst part about it was that I was still numb when I went to bed that night, so I woke up at 4 a.m. in the worst pain of my life. I sucked on a lemon tea bag, since we were out of gauze. The surgery was on a Friday, and I still worked throughout the weekend, because I'm just not that smart about those kinds of things. My mom wouldn't let me take the Vicodin, because she was afraid I would become addicted. So to get back at her, I took her bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol and refused to give it back.
I also couldn't figure out how to operate the syringe he gave me, so I took the alternate route of gargling with salt water. Maybe that's why I had to go back a week later, because the "dissolvable" stitches had dissolved into a clump at the side of my mouth ...