My girlfriend lovingly has made me lots of rice pudding and I’ve lovingly heated up canned soup and I’ve begrudgingly ate both for the last three days after getting two wisdom teeth removed three days ago. Honestly, it hasn’t been that terrible because I only had two removed (instead of all four), but it’s still very uncomfortable. Just to give all you folks who have never experienced this a taste of what you can expect… read the time line for the last three days.
10:15am: I go under. The process was painless… they stuck an IV into my left arm right into my vein, the same vein I use to donate my blood, and it’s quite a fatty so there aren’t any problems there. I try to stay conscious as long as I can so I can fully feel like what it’s like to go under since it’s my first time. They put a pulse thing on my finger, strap on blood pressure stuff to my right arm, and the oral surgeon tells me to pick out a nice dream. I pick the nice one about how my girlfriend and I went on a cruise to the West Caribbean a few years ago. Then I pick out the one with the other girlfriend (aaaah just kidding). I would’ve thought of sugar-plum fairies but I have no idea what they look like. They strap on a few other things, put some stuff on my face, and I feel the same exact sensation I felt when I (allegedly) puked all over a mall in Cancun my freshman year. Everything gets all bright and I black out.
10:xxam: I’m half awake somehow, feeling the dentist drilling apart the left tooth and pulling out the pieces. It doesn’t hurt and I know what’s going on so I don’t freak out or anything. I remember my friend said this happened to him so I just sort of pretend everything’s cool. I open my eyes, look at the surgeon, look around, wonder if he cares that my eyes are open, and the next thing I know we’re done.
10:45am: I’m sitting in a chair waiting for my girlfriend to come back with two pieces of gauze in my mouth that hurt like hell. The nurse hands me two containers of pills, amoxicillin and vicodin, and tells me not to spit. I promptly spit out blood into the toilet and she scolds me. My girlfriend comes back and we drive home. I know why they say not to drive because I feel ridiculously drunk, like twelve beers in two hours type drunk, except it’s light out (not that that’s never happened before) and it’s before noon (also, not like that’s not happened before, I did attend 4+ years of higher education after all).
11am: I eat the pills, lie in bed, PTFO.
6pm: Girlfriend wakes me up, I eat more pills and some rice pudding. It’s good since I haven’t eaten since 6pm the day before (rules of anesthesia, no eating). It’s also good because it’s the first time I’ve had it in about ten years.
+1 day, 7am: I wake up for work feeling pretty good. My girlfriend is apprehensive about me driving to work since the rule is no driving within 24 hours but I feel good.
+1 day, 8am: I sit at work, groggy from the vicodin, the world is a blur around me. I feel absolutely and entirely… useless.
+1 day, 10am: I realize I can’t do anything and I’d be better off sleeping. I manage the drive home without incident. I sleep for many many hours.
+1 day, 5:59pm: At some point my girlfriend asks me if I asked for my two wisdom teeth. I mention to her that I was on drugs and was thinking about how I was going to stop the Joker and the Penguin from destroying Gotham tonight, especially if I can’t drive the Batmobile for 24 hours. She realizes that I’m on drugs and thus not in the full frame of mind to actually ask for my teeth back, let alone realize I’m not Batman.
+1 day, 6pm: I’ve just slept 8 hours a mere 2 hours after sleeping like a million hours. I eat some more rice pudding, which is still tasty, and soup but girlfriend is nowhere to be found. I realize she works 2nd shift so she’s doing crazy stuff in a biosuit. I think I fiddle around online for a few hours, play cards online, then pass out at around 11pm. Somewhere in there I eat ice cream.
+2 days, 7am (today): I really feel pretty good now and I have a great productive day at work. I still look like a chipmunk, my girlfriend mentions this to me, and my friends still ask me if I want to go grab a hamburger or a beer (while I secret vow to crazy glue their phones to their faces) but otherwise it’s a regular day. I tried to eat a shrimp salad croissant sandwich at a meeting today… it was like trying to put a wet dog in a bathtub (messy and I looked silly) and generally a bad idea.
+2 days, 8pm: I eat some soup. Rice pudding is on holiday tonight. I skip the ice cream, wouldn’t want all those empty calories!
+2 days, 11am: Right before I’m about to go to bed, my nose starts to bleed (I have had nose bleeding problems, it’s from my days as a numchuck-wielding barenuckle boxer) but it goes into my mouth and I think my stitches have busted or something. I managed to figure out it’s just my nose, stop panicking, and fix the situation. I eat more pills and I’m ready for bed and ready for all this to be over. Soon.