Heaven forbid I ever need a major surgery. I mean, seriously, just put me down. Like a horse.
So I am STILL recovering from this damn wisdom tooth extraction. Only 2, mind you. Not even all 4 teeth.
I get a teeny bit better each day...enough to keep me from calling and cursing out my dentist, but not enough that I feel any satisfactory improvement.
I can now sleep on the affected side, but it still hurts to kiss. Or chew. Or smile.
When I brush my teeth on that side, something pulls...like there is a stitch lying next to a molar up above and down below. Makes my stomach turn over...and when I look back there, I can still see giant Frankenstein stitches everywhere. When do these dissolve exactly?
I am a terrible patient. I mean, I was okay for the first 24 hours when I was still on the good drugs. But I had to quickly wean myself off because, you know, responsible for children over here...and then I become the worst patient ever. Pissing and moaning about my aching mouth...to Jeff's credit, he has not rolled his eyes even once. When I'm looking, anyway.
-clap, clap-
Enough pity party. To the doctor tomorrow, where he'll either tell me to suck it up, he TOLD me that I'm old now and this would be harder than the 18 year olds I knew who had it done. OR, he'll tell me that there is some complication and no wonder I'm still in pain and then fix it. I'm leaning towards the first option. Where he tells me I'm old. Again.
On other fronts, did you know that when one parent is out of commission it really sucks when the other parent gets sick? So of course Jeff had a really bad sore throat and congestion which meant Jeff was also stumbling around feeling awful. Homework and long term projects were abandoned, practices skipped, parties skipped, much yelling and griping at children who insist on being healthy and wanting to act like children.
But it's Monday. -clap, clap- Time to rally. Children were bathed this morning (another thing that slid by), papers were signed, playdates were made.
Seriously. Teeth, people. Just put me down the next time, okay?
1 comment:
The curse of aging. I mean, back in the day we would be on our last legs at this point. I had mine out at 20 or 21, and it was no big deal. But 20 years ago, most physical things weren't a big deal.
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