I had five teeth extracted two days ago. This is a typical menu I have developed for the speedway to recovery, considering the magical nutritional properties each of these foods offer. I couldn't have done it without some help from my grandmother, but if you have a simple slow cooker and a blender you should be able to make most of these.
JUICE
Any combination of the following:
Fruits- bananas, avocado, papayas, oranges, blueberries, strawberries
Vegetables- cai xin, spinach, carrots, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, any green leafy vegetables
Mixed with- rice milk, raw honey, ginger, black sesame powder
PORRIDGE
Fish porridge with ginger
Brown rice porridge with fish and mashed sweet potato
SIDE (if any)
Tofu with soy sauce
2 half-boiled eggs with raw garlic, olive oil and soy sauce. Garlic has high anti-bacterial properties.
BETWEEN-MEAL SNACKS / OTHERS
Warm cardamom cacao rice-milk drink
Warm lemon-honey drink
Vitamin C supplement
NATURAL MOUTHWASHES
(supplementing chemical mouthwash provided by dentist)
Sea salt and water
Turmeric, sea salt and water
Olive oil
Innovation goes on.
Cooks
Grandma Ng #1 (72 years old)
Grandma Ng #2 (25 years old)
Though swollen and feverish, I have been oddly energetic and unable to take deep naps or sleep well in the night. This, I think, is owing to the food, especially the juice that immediately energizes the body by being quickly absorbed by the stomach, before being rewarded with a lovely bowl of grandma's warm porridge (to be taken in small amounts, spooned to back of throat).
My lower lip and chin regained full sensation in the first night- hurrah, no paralysis despite the odds of prolonged numbness! The swelling began on the second day and got worse on the third day (today). I speak by pushing the words out using my vocal cords and barely moving my lips. Being somewhat speech-impaired has made me appreciate what it might feel like to be unable to speak, and understand silence and patience as companions.
On the second day, I made a necklace of my three intact teeth. To prepare them, I soaked them in olive oil and apple cider vinegar, boiled them, flossed them and scrubbed them with colgate about five times in between. The remaining flesh and gum had to be dugged out with my fingernails. My little talismans.
If you badly need to remove your wisdom teeth are but afraid to do so, it's worth investing in a good dental surgeon if you can afford it, and go for general anaesthesia if the injections, slicing of gum, drilling, pulling, splotches of blood and stitching will traumatize you too much in the chair. It's a good price to pay for the reduction of mental trauma (different from a perhaps worthier mental trauma such as the spirituality of giving birth).
As the anaesthetic flowed through my veins in a gentle gush, making me feel like I was in Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere or had a superpower, I told the anaesthetist (a gentle man with side-parted silver hair) in all seriousness that going under was like going to outer space, and asked him about whether his patients had dreams. He didn't really reply, probably thought I was almost under, and looked out the window with a cynical bemused face.
The next thing was a black hole, and then I awoke with an abhorrently swollen mouth, soaking up gauze after gauze with thick blood, drooling red saliva on the floor, missing someone so much I cried on the way home.
