What’s on the menu when you get your wisdom teeth removed? Charlotte Muru-Lanning recounts 10 days of grueling eating after tooth extraction.
This is an extract from our weekly food newsletter, The Boil Up.
I’ve spent the last 10 days recovering from having my wisdom teeth removed – here’s everything I ate.
Tuesday, first day:
This was the day of the surgery, which I had been dreading since the day I booked it. You cannot eat before the general anaesthetic, and in the seven waking hours leading up to the operation, the urge to eat or take back a glass of water was almost overwhelming.
While I was waiting before surgery, I took a picture of a little cartoon in my journal: a tiny fish labeled “yesterday’s problem” being eaten by a slightly larger fish called “today’s problem” which was about to be chewed up from the much bigger fish “tomorrow’s problem”. I thought it was funny in a cute way at the time, but in hindsight maybe it was some kind of omen.
I was sleeping for the surgery and woke up in the surgery feeling like my whole mouth was gone, but the nurse gave me an orange ice cube. It’s hard to eat a block of ice without a mouth.
Dinner that night was half a can of lukewarm Wattie’s “very special” creamy chicken soup and lots of pills.
Wednesday, second day:
If you haven’t had teeth removed before, you’ll probably be surprised (as I was) at the level of dietary restrictions in the coming days and weeks. Prior to surgery, I had been warned by numerous wisdom teeth about the dreaded “dry socket”. I won’t go into the grisly details in a food newsletter, but this means that what should form over the extraction sites either doesn’t form at all or moves away – and I’ve been told it’s “terribly painful” and can last for weeks . Besides soft food, straws are a no (suction is bad), as is rice (or literally any other similar food that can get stuck in the holes), along with spices and acidic foods (which can aggravate the area) .
In preparation, I stocked up on bananas, fancy Greek yogurt, hummus, sorbet, Angel Delight instant pudding, eggs, instant miso, potatoes (for mash), and homemade soups in individual servings – a roasted garlic, a leek and potato, and a roast carrot – which I froze. Four days of completely bland food before I start introducing a bit more variety. I started writing down and photographing everything I ate.
Thursday, third day:
Another banana smoothie for breakfast, roasted carrot for lunch with a side of avocado and mashed potatoes served in a pretty bowl for dinner.
My Type C personality got some kind of strange satisfaction from being so prepared and thoughtful about the kai I would eat in recovery – like Martha Stewart after wisdom tooth surgery (Martha Stewart did wisdom teeth were removed very). I envisioned myself typing up some kind of fun newsletter about four days’ worth of messy but imaginative food, with a headline like “the limiting pleasures of eating after wisdom teeth surgery.” I had no idea how quickly the novelty would wear off. My lesson, on reflection, is that some things in life just can’t be romanticized.
Friday, day four:
My chipmunk cheeks have receded significantly, to a size more like that of a quokka. Another banana smoothie, roasted garlic soup and a lukewarm tea for lunch. a super soft macaroni and cheese that I eat without chewing and a glass of Thai milk tea for dinner. Lots of antibiotics and painkillers.
Saturday, fifth day:
This is the day I’m supposed to start feeling better, and yet I wake up in hell – despite being on some pretty boring pain meds. To take my mind off the radiating, throbbing anxiety and needing a change of scenery, I make a trip to one of my favorite places, the supermarket, to buy feta cheese, smoked salmon and a can of whipped chocolate mousse.
In the evening, I make a herring dish of smoked salmon, mashed avocado and feta cheese soup. For dessert, chocolate mousse from the can. I can barely speak.
Sunday, day six:
Today I can only eat a profoundly unsightly bowl of mashed banana with some yogurt with my meds before my dad drives me to A&E – my dental surgeon thinks I have the dreaded dry socket.
There is a tangential relationship between food and its issue universal free dental care, not only because our teeth are so important when it comes to enjoying food, but also because arguments against such policies often include the idea that money would be better spent on prevention through education about sugary foods and drinks. Prevention is important, but I would be remiss not to note how prohibitively expensive this all was – and my eating habits had no effect. Fortunately, I have insurance that has covered most of the cost, but without it, so far it would have cost me $5,550 plus a $75 trip to the White Cross and $35 in prescriptions (dental prescriptions are not subsidized under the new program).
Monday, seventh day:
I go back to the surgeon in the morning, who confirms not just one but two dry sockets, along with some other issues. Another day of pain and nausea. To take my mind off it all I consume a media diet of videos They were crowned, Trinny Woodhall and Desperate Housewives style tips. For dinner my friend makes me a silly haute cuisine dish of salmon, mashed spinach and a quenelle of mashed potatoes.
Tuesday, Day Eight:
Taking a mixture of painkillers and antibiotics non-stop for over a week does some strange things to your body. Especially your brain (which is like a sieve) and maybe even more in your belly. I’ve lost 4kg, my face looks down (as Trinny Woodhall would say), I feel ridiculously weak and I still can’t talk.
Wednesday, day nine:
The Nutribullet has been both friend and foe for the past week and a bit. I have no idea what I’d do without it, but I’m so sick of the mush it makes. Even with the nausea, I had cravings for certain food, or more specifically food textures. I found myself dreaming of the suspense of drinking boba tea, chewing chicken stomachs, the condensed, almost intimate experience of eating whole shrimp and clams, the alternating textures as you bite into a burger, the puff of chongqing noodles, the varied crunch of Cheds, popcorn and radishes and the dry vanilla birthday cake crumble.
Thursday, Day 10:
The incessant sloppiness of eating during this time has led me to a heightened awareness and I have come to an end delving into brain chemistry behind the senses of food texture. There are evolutionary reasons why we enjoy or dislike certain textures, and in 2014, a “sonic chip” experiment showed that chips that are louder to eat taste better. As someone whose happiness is largely dependent on what I eat, learning the extent to which texture, not just taste, drives positive brain responses to food has been enlightening – if not slightly frustrating when I can’t do anything for this. For now at least, back to my porridge.
