tear my eyes open
They took my wisdom teeth out Tuesday morning. The pain of recovery from removal is so much less than the agony of having one of them infected that I barely feel like taking pain medicine two days later.
The operation marked the first time I was ever gassed at the dentist office, though I experienced it for only a few moments before they put me out completely. Two seconds later they were dragging me out and onto a bench in a recovery room where Mike would meet me and wait for me to wake enough to walk. It's very very disconcerting not quite being able to walk when you feel like you can walk well enough. I think Mike didn't quite know whether holding me up would help or interfere with my progress. I managed a sort of pathetic geisha shuffle inbetween awkward moments where an ankle or knee would simply give up and lend me a lurching gait. Mike donned full angel's wings the whole time he helped me up the stairs to mine and Brian's room and put me in the bed, while he made me potato leek soup (which the surgeon intructed me to eat immediately so that I could take my antibiotics and painkiller) and got me water. He stayed until 5:30 that afternoon in case I needed him even though I provided no conversational entertainment at all. I never slept so much as occasionally fainted into a drug-induced haze of monterous images. "Is it called hallucinating if your eyes are closed?" I asked.
It wasn't so terrible. I got to see a lot of love aimed at me from other people, and that was something I've needed lately anyway. My mother and brother completely surprised me by coming out to the city to visit me in my new digs while Mike slept on the couch. I couldn't speak clearly with the gauze shoved in my mouth, but managed to participate in passable convo with a pen and paper. By the time Jonna came to visit, the gauze was out but my mouth was still sore despite the codiene haze. My dad spent the day with me in my room yesterday while I repeatedly almost puked. Oh, Lortab.
Speaking of Lortab and hallucinations, the last two nights I've had the most icky sleep paralysis. Both nights I was actually flailing and crying out when I managed to shake out of the sleep bondage. I think I'm going to try to go the rest of the healing without painkillers and just buy a wheatgrass juicer. Seriously, that stuff is magic potion for your cells. I'm still just a little tender, but otherwise just fine now.
The operation marked the first time I was ever gassed at the dentist office, though I experienced it for only a few moments before they put me out completely. Two seconds later they were dragging me out and onto a bench in a recovery room where Mike would meet me and wait for me to wake enough to walk. It's very very disconcerting not quite being able to walk when you feel like you can walk well enough. I think Mike didn't quite know whether holding me up would help or interfere with my progress. I managed a sort of pathetic geisha shuffle inbetween awkward moments where an ankle or knee would simply give up and lend me a lurching gait. Mike donned full angel's wings the whole time he helped me up the stairs to mine and Brian's room and put me in the bed, while he made me potato leek soup (which the surgeon intructed me to eat immediately so that I could take my antibiotics and painkiller) and got me water. He stayed until 5:30 that afternoon in case I needed him even though I provided no conversational entertainment at all. I never slept so much as occasionally fainted into a drug-induced haze of monterous images. "Is it called hallucinating if your eyes are closed?" I asked.
It wasn't so terrible. I got to see a lot of love aimed at me from other people, and that was something I've needed lately anyway. My mother and brother completely surprised me by coming out to the city to visit me in my new digs while Mike slept on the couch. I couldn't speak clearly with the gauze shoved in my mouth, but managed to participate in passable convo with a pen and paper. By the time Jonna came to visit, the gauze was out but my mouth was still sore despite the codiene haze. My dad spent the day with me in my room yesterday while I repeatedly almost puked. Oh, Lortab.
Speaking of Lortab and hallucinations, the last two nights I've had the most icky sleep paralysis. Both nights I was actually flailing and crying out when I managed to shake out of the sleep bondage. I think I'm going to try to go the rest of the healing without painkillers and just buy a wheatgrass juicer. Seriously, that stuff is magic potion for your cells. I'm still just a little tender, but otherwise just fine now.