I have since Friday been recovering from surgery: 4 wisdom teeth- 2 impacted- removed. The surgery itself went very well- better than I’d expected. As I sat alone, waiting to be injected with whatever’s in that so-called “general anesthesia”, I said to myself: “Whatever happens, remember feeling like this: normal. This was a normal and there will be again.
I was injected and was out and back in like blinking. Only foggier. The nurse, when telling my escort, Kathy from the Dean Of Students office (apparently it’s their job, this sort of thing, amazing), about “post-extraction care”, told me not to worry too much about listening, because “you won’t remember any of this later”. Ha-ha, fooled you. Though after she said that I did stop trying to focus. I was lucid, though dazed- like trying to stay awake at night when you’re a kid, I didn’t realize how much I was trying till I stopped, and faded away into drugged comfort.
I couldn’t really talk and so when I got to the Keen’s, Amanda, my caretaker for the day, gave me a pad and paper. “Yay” is circled because it was twice a reply to something she said. It also reads “They said something about ice-cream- if you’re going out anyway or whatever I have $,” and then “…chocolate…”
It’s now Tuesday night. I left for the first time today, not counting transporting myself. (Friday night I went to Rachel’s, where I stayed 2 nights, then back home.) I went to the theatre, and kept getting dizzy and light-headed, which I hadn’t before, just being in bed or on couch. Eating mostly ice-cream only gets you so far.
My attempts at more food on Sunday afternoon led to migrainey nausea that lasted through Monday. It was so bad I couldn’t watch the more visually chaotic of my DVDs- i.e., “The Young Ones” and “Bottom”. So I watched “Law & Order: SVU” all day, and felt ill whenever someone smoked a cigarette. A result of the Vicodin I think. Evil, wonderful things. Cut down and bought AlkaSeltzer, but still too scared to try more food again.
I think I’m in love. TheraFlu is magic. And my nails are now longer than they’ve been in ages, I can’t chew on them. I’m still playing with them though- they’re fascinating, disturbing. I feel a dreadful loss of control not being able to trim their edges with my teeth. I’m much more skilled with my teeth than with an emery board, after all.
Someday I will eat and chew and frolic and stand without a ground-checking pause, someday… There was a normal and there will be again.