Note: This blog was started nearly a week ago :\
Fail.
I’m determined today.
That’s the best word I can think of, determined. I have been, without a doubt, the worst
blogger ever. I tell people with a small
glittering sense of pride that I have a blog and then when they ask for the
link, I pass that on quite proudly as well until they say to me, “wait the last
time you posted was in April?!” Okay,
that’s the moment I pause and wonder what’s up with my life. How can I let things get so out of hand that
I don’t have 15 minutes to actually stop and do the one thing that I’ve always
been passionate enough to do? No matter
the challenges no less.
So here’s the skinny on what’s given me the time to sit down
and do this. On Friday, I had dental
surgery. 3 wisdom teeth yanked out of my
jaw. Apparently, this is an oddity at
the age of 42. In fact, most get it done
at a much younger age where recovery is often swifter and less painful. Uh…why the hell wasn’t I told this?? Why wasn’t I informed? Why the hell wasn’t I given the option
even? I feel downright cheated
here! I need to have a chat with my
parents, that’s what I need to do and this needs to happen swiftly. Why would they put me through all this
nonsense at this age when this coulda been taken care of way back then?
Anyhow, the sad thing is, when the oral surgeon gave me the
prognosis (is that the right terminology or is it diagnosis? Frankly, I’m too lazy to look it up so
apologies if this is all wrong), then said I would need 3-4 days of recovery, I
was almost….elated. How jacked up is
that? Never mind that I was going under
any sort of anesthesia, that I would be knocked out, that I was having pieces
of me jerked out of my head…none of that mattered. I had to take a few days off. I had to.
I HAD to. Omg, someone pinch
me. I had a medical reason not to go to
work?
And whereas the thought caused me such acute happiness that
I could barely stand upright, the fact remained that the work which led to
wrapping things up on my side was ginormous.
Day and night I covered all basis for my departure, painstakingly
writing out long emails with updates, tying up loose ends that would otherwise
unravel if I wasn’t around (or so I like to think I’m just that important) and
informing clients that I was about to be out-of-pocket and therefore would not
be available (resisting the urge to write “…EVER AGAIN TO ENTERTAIN ANYMORE OF
YOUR DUMB QUESTIONS OR STUPID REQUESTS…”).
Then of course there was lining up coverage and yada, yada.
Made me wonder though, what happens when a person just up
and gets sick eliminating time to prepare?
What if I had to just…go? And
then what? Luckily my documentation in
general was without question in place but it gave me pause…This does bring to
mind another good question: how sadly
programmed are we that we are almost unwilling to give in to simple human
ailments because of a ridiculously regimented life, of societal expectations,
of our own silly hopes?
That’s for another blog at another time…
Moving along…then the day of the surgery dawned. I went to work as if nothing was happening
that day, rushed through, had tons of meetings and stuff before leaving
(late). By the time I got to the docs
office I was so tired that I almost fell asleep in the waiting room. In the chair, the surgeon and his two
assistants were preparing and cracking up at my nonsensical banter. I wondered if they didn’t think it was nerves
that made me twitter on like a hen wit but it honestly wasn’t. I was just so ready for this crap to be over
that the surgery itself was making me non-nervous.
So how’s the recovery gone?
Fine. I got a bunch of Hydrocodone
happy pills anticipating all sorts of lunatic fun and instead nada. I mean it.
Nothing. Not even
drowsiness. Again this begs the
question, what in the world is wrong with me?
Like how does drugs that would otherwise knock grown adults on their
asses, making them drool into their pillow, do nothing to me? And instead I’m just ‘waiting’ for that
delicious feeling of nothingness to creep over me. Never happened. And by that night, the meds that they had
given me had started to wear away leaving me braced for ‘the pain’ as everyone
explained which would be swift and relentless.
Yea, not so much.
Wait, wait, no there’s pain but not as bad as I had assumed or had mentally
prepared myself for. The hype was worse
than the reality.
All in all this whole experience has been a little
revealing. Here’s what I’ve discovered:
For all that I detest working out, even the slightest idea
of physical discomfort, pain, agony, etc. (after all who likes that crap
anyhow?) makes me cringe, I am in fact quite strong. Not just mentally, this has been questioned a
few times in the past, but even physically.
I have a high pain threshold (which I was informed of by Dr. Awesome who
couldn’t understand how I wasn’t howling in pain with the way my jagged #1 was
crumbled in my mouth). I’m also really
no good at staying home. Like,
really. NOT good.
I spent 5 days at home and went stir crazy by day 2. I was staring out the window with a slightly
manic look in my eyes akin to those in prison thinking of how they can
escape. I was doing much of the same,
wondering techniques for jailbreaking but from my house. Mind you the holes in my head were aching
relentlessly but I did not care. I
wanted to once again be a part of humanity, to the extent that I could (I mean I’m
not a people person so being social means taking a long walk or reading
somewhere that no one bothers me). But
none of those things were possible at that time and I wanted to break down
crying. Psst…I did sneak out, only to be
hollered at and ordered to return home.
Whatevs…
Compound all that with the fact that I was living on
anything soft and mushy (a consistency that I did not particularly enjoy or do
even more now) and it was just one big NO.
To this moment, if someone says, ‘hey let’s go get a milkshake!” I’m
liable to drown them, savvy?
Now, more than a week and some change since the surgery I’m
finally pain free and 5lb’s lighter (yay).
I have been suffering some headaches up till yesterday but today has
been so much better. My jaw has stopped
aching and I’m tentatively chewing again instead of gulping things whole.
So yea, that’s what’s been happening. Good times.
I know y’all are jealous!
The good thing is? I
at least retained a certain sense of humor about this whole thing and now never
have to worry about them darn toofs!
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