I just had three wisdom teeth removed and I’m definitely completely high on drugs. Not the illegal kind. The drugs I’m on are completely 100% free. No, more like 110%, heck I’ll be generous and say 111% legal. And I’m neaseous. I can’t spell. And my entire face is puffy, especially my eyes from crying.
I just puked. It was brown and red. A whole lot of ice cream, pudding, and blood. Maybe all this will make me less fat.
I went in this morning at 9, I remember we were running late. My dad had just given me the sheet that says what we were and were not supposed to do before the operation. I hadn’t seen it before. My dad had told me not to eat or drink after 12 the night before. The sheet said no solids after 12 and no liquids 3 hours prior to the surgery. It also said to wear a loose comfortable t-shirt. I wore a tight, too-small Archie shirt with a baggy sweatshirt over top.
The girl who went before me had cheeks out to there and eyelids barely open.
I just puked again. This time there wasn’t as much red, instead there was little black chunks. Probably pudding. Except I don’t remember the pudding being black. I recall it being brown. There wasn’t as much red. It was the best pudding I’ve had in my life. What a waste.
I remember going to the room where my teeth would be pulled. The doctor showed me an x-ray of my teeth. He showed me the wisdom teeth. Then he gave me a lesson on what they were going to do and how. The book had pictures. He skipped a page and said he would get back to it later. He never did. He put in the IV but didn’t start the drip. While he was getting ready, I was really quiet so he told me he knew I wasn’t sleeping because he hadn’t started the drip yet.
I wasn’t pretending to sleep.
I remember there was a heart monitor and I could hear the beep of my heart rate. It made me angry, I didn’t want him to hear my heart. A Backstreet Boys song came on and the beeping got faster. Mercifully, he started the drip. I felt myself being squeezed, my whole body. And I felt heavy and the beeping slowed down. I looked up at the ceiling, laughed, and was gone.
I don’t remember waking up or putting on my sweatshirt. I don’t remember if anyone else was in the waiting room. The bottom half of my face was frozen, including my tongue. I cried. I don’t remember starting but I remember the doctor telling me not to cry. There was no reason to cry. He didn’t want the next person getting scared. I laughed through my tears. He was right. There was no reason to cry. But I didn’t stop.
I remember getting nauseous and suddenly ending up in the bathroom. I thought I was going to puke. The hygienist told me to sit on the toilet with my head down. I remember wondering what the point was, it wasn’t going to come out that end. She took out my gauze and put in some more.
I remember walking down the stairs clinging to the railing as if my life depended on it, and the hygienist on my left clinging to me, as if her life depended on it. I don’t remember getting in the car, or the drive home, but I remember pulling into the driveway and my dad telling me I shouldn’t walk up any steps so we’ll go through the front door. I reminded him through my frozen mouth full of gauze that the front door had steps. He said they were easier. I don’t remember walking up the stairs but I remember taking off my shoes and hanging up my coat.
I woke up half an hour later in massive pain. I think I was given drugs.
I woke up again 4 hours later feeling as though a bus had hit me everywhere but my face.
My knees hurt. My chest hurt. My neck hurt. The arm that had the IV hurt.
I got up, stumbled to the bathroom. Mik said something but I didn’t hear her. When I came
out before anyone said anything else, Mik asked if I wanted to make dinner. It turns out she asked me if I wanted a painkiller. I said sure.
I just puked yet again. Not as much red, and not as much black. I got a little on the rim. I should tie my hair up. I just got it straightened yesterday at the National Women’s Show. It was fun. I got tonnes of free samples. I got a jar of orange-flavoured laxative.
After Mik gave me the painkillers, I got the newspaper out of the garbage and read some of it. I read very slowly. I couldn’t concentrate. “Alfie” only got 2 stars. They kept comparing Jude Law to Michael Caine.
My parents were at Costco looking for ice cream for me. Costco didn’t have any. So they went to No Frills. They bought me strawberry yogurt, which is my favourite kind. They bought chocolate caramel ice cream and chocolate mint ice cream. They know me so well.
We were going to watch “Fahrenheit 9/11” but my parents thought I was on too many drugs to understand it. My mom and I went to Blockbuster to get an easier, “frivolous” movie. We got “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. We also got “Pecker”. I think. I can’t remember. I wanted to get “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” but Blockbuster screwed up and there was none. Or something. I began to feel nauseous and woozy so I sat in the car and waited. I went back to sleep when I got home.
I’m going to bed now. Should I brush my teeth? No.
NEXT DAY: I drooled in my sleep last night. I can’t keep my lips closed. Now my pillow is stained with blood. My right cheek is really swollen today. I can hold it in my hand like a baseball. I tried eating Mr. Noodles today. I didn’t get too far. I wasn’t hungry and I couldn’t open my mouth enough to get a decent mouthful. Plus, I couldn’t chew. I sat around watching TV all day. What a waste. I hate when I waste my day watching TV. I slept with frozen corn on my face for about two hours. I can feel my stitches in my mouth. I think one may be coming out because the string slides down the back of my throat.