My lower 8s (bottom wisdom teeth to non-dentists) have been trouble since they first started coming through in 1999 – the gum pockets got infected before the teeth had even emerged, so I had to have a trip to the emergency dentist (in Melksham, as I recall) and some antibiotics.

I’d had my upper wisdom teeth removed in 1998 on the advice of my dentist; although they were at a bit of a strange angle (they pointed outwards, causing me to bite my cheeks – owie!) they were fairly easily removed under local anaesthetic.

I had heard that lower wisdom teeth were not normally so obliging. After an initial recommendation in 2006 to have them removed, I finally got around to seeing the consultant surgeon, a very genial chap by the name of Mr. Lutterloch, in February this year.

My initial appointment for the surgery, in April, had to be postponed as I had a cold but yesterday on May 21st the day came at last. Mr. Lutterloch reassured my nerves regarding general anaesthetic and my suggestion of sedation instead (“general anaesthetic is like riding on a train; sedation is like riding on a motorbike”) and I went down to theatre just before 9am. I woke up in the recovery room at about 9.40, feeling quite sleepy yet elated – I kept smiling spontaneously as I realised those pesky teeth had gone.

I was back in my private room by 10.10am and able to use my mobile to text Kathy that I was all fine. An hour later my swabs were taken out and I had scrambled eggs (no toast, though – not soft enough) just before midday. Kathy picked me up at 2pm and that was that.

I’ve got stitches in my gums, which will be in for a couple of weeks, and a cocktail of painkillers and antibiotics to take. On the whole, though, I feel pretty normal. Well, as normal as it gets

UPDATE: the normal feeling didn’t last. Once the local anaesthetic wore off, I felt pretty rubbish. I’m still in some discomfort now, which may indicate an infection on one side that requires more antibiotics. Repeat to self: “at least the teeth are gone.”