So… I had my wisdom teeth taken out yesterday. The words “fun” and “extravaganza” definitely do NOT apply here. The beginning itself was a whole fiasco.. it all started like this.
Whenever I go to the doctor, they can never find my veins if they need to give me a shot of some sort. It’s happened multiple times- I have no idea why the thought didn’t strike me that an IV would be equally as hard to place, but it didn’t. I get into the office and there’s two doctors, a younger one and an older one. The younger one ties the elastic around my left arm and starts mumbling about “rolly veins”. Apparently my veins know what’s coming and recoil and escape whenever it’s trying to be punctured. I did not know this. So he proceeds to try to “find” the vein and sticks with with the IV thing. Then he’s like “oh.. whoops… I can’t get it in the vein, let’s try the other one”. So, he proceeds to elastic my other arm… and tries the same thing. It doesn’t work. Same thing happens. So I finally started talking about making sure I don’t die during this surgery. He said “Your boyfriend would be very affected if you died!” and I said ” Well I’d imagine I’d be the most affected out of anyone! I’d be dead!”
The older doctor comes in and tries to put the IV into my left wrist this time. Nope. No can do. Apparently my body rejects every kind of needle. It was trying NOT to go in, as hard as I was cringing. So by this point I was like “Okay, if I cry..seriously DON’T judge”. The doctor finally get the needle in my right arm, puts the oxygen on, and talks until I pass out.
So from this point on I don’t remember anything. Shane told me some pretty hilarious stuff actually. He said I kept poking him and whispering very loudly to “tell him about the shots.” Lol. Okay- quick rewind. So before the surgery I had to take out my tongue ring. I kept telling them not to forget to give it back to me, or to give it to shane. So- fast foward- apparently me getting my tongue ring back at the end became this whole situation. I kept insisting on getting it back, and finally they gave in.
According to shane, I somehow managed to get to the bathroom on my own (with him in tow) and screw my tongue ring back in… highly sedated. Apparently I know how to take care of myself even when I’m drugged on tons of morphine (or whatever goodness was flowing intravenously through my body).
We get back to the apartment and I managed to fly up the stairs myself and plop down on the couch. Shane, being the awesome boyfriend he was, went to CVS to get me ice packs (there’s that pirate speak again.. yarrr matey where’s my booty?!) and my codeine… as well as chicken soup. I hopped online at SOME point in time and attempted to IM Jenna (looking back now, that clearly didn’t work out as well as I thought. There was a whole bunch of gibberish there). I then proceeded to pass out for a good two hours.
I wake up, and I look like a chipmunk who was smuggling acorns. Perhaps golf balls, or small children. I’m totally for serious here. I could probably get stuck trying to walk through a door way, my cheeks are so big. I’ve now gotten a glimpse of what I would look like if I was 100 pounds heavier. I’m a total square head. My head… looks like a cylinder block. I also have this weird crick in my neck, I think I slept funny.
Did I mention that codeine is my sworn enemy? Oh yes. While some people take it for the sheer pleasure and enjoyment of being completely retarded, I do not. Whenever that pill enters my body I immediately gag. It knows what’s coming. My body apparently rebels anything and everything, and I have no idea about it until it happens. They gave me “oxycodone” instead of “hydrocodone”. Apparently the Oxy is 1.5 X stronger (and about twice the strength of morphine).. and doesn’t make you as sick. But I still felt nauseous. For a good while I couldn’t even get off the couch. It did feel pretty good though once I got over the whole “Trying to puke this medicine out” phase. The website was talking about how it was highly addicting. I, for one, am glad that I don’t fall into the category that would get addicted to it. It makes me feel so gross (albeit, it does get rid of the pain). I HATE sedatives/narcotics. I don’t like not being aware of what’s going on around me. I don’t like being out of mind. That’s why I don’t really enjoy drinking that much. I like being 100% totally with myself. I prefer caffeine.
I’ve been living on a diet of chicken soup, ice cream, and mashed potatoes. I like the ice cream bit… you can never have too much. I’m begining to think that shane is psychic… seriously. There’s been multiple instances before where I’ll be hanging out with somebody, or in the shower, and thinking how much I want a redbull or a coffee. The next thing I know he’s walking in the door with one. Truly awesome. I want some of what he’s got. LOL. Like yesterday, I was just popping chicken soup into the microwave, when he walked in the door early from school, sporting a lovely big panera bag filled with soup goodness. He rocks at life.
I don’t like being crippled inside like this. I go…crazy. I’m totally not kidding. I’m not the type of person who can sit in an apartment all day- let alone two. Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow. We’re staking out the bedroom window right now because earlier today I heard some stupid hooker who moved in next door screaming and swearing at somebody (I won’t repeat what she said. Hi dad!). She was making a scene and being really annoying. Later on today we then heard a guy screaming “blah blah blah SLUT” up the stairs. I’m assuming it was whoever she was yelling at earlier. So the cops came to their apartment, and now they are totally hiding in the bushes by her car to make sure he doesn’t come back.
Real life drama. Yum.
Anyway, I’m going to go unwillingly take more codiene and try not to die.
This blog obviously is not witty at all, and probably really boring.. keep in mind- I haven’t left the apartment since yesterday and taken alot of pain medicine. My brain is all jumbly and not working and stuff.
Judge if you will =D
good night.
