Wisdom Teeth
I had my wisdom teeth removed about four days ago, but lets be honest, on those painkillers it's hard to keep track of time. Seems as though there's nothing abnormal to report about my procedure. In fact, I have minimal swelling and no bruising to report. My surgeon was no doubt happy to line his pockets with another inconceivable sum from my insurance company while I was incoherently wheeled out of the OR into the waiting room, I'm sure to the absolute horror of anyone present. I was written a script for the basics: Hydrocodone for pain, Ibuprofen for swelling and pain, antibiotics for infection and sent on my merry way. I promptly took this opportunity to crawl into the car backwards, roll my eyes back into my head uncontrollably and bleed everywhere, to which my mother responded by crying hysterically in the middle of a Publix parking lot.My first demand upon returning home was that my mother go out and purchase no less than two bags of Crazy Bread from Little Caesar's. Prior to this point I'd never eaten at a Little Caesar's, I wasn't even completely solid on why this bread was so "crazy". She was quick to shoot my ideas down, but I was imperative on the fact that I could indeed take this adversary on in mortal combat. "Tomorrow" she promised. I then proceeded to pull an absolutely beautiful argument out of my still anesthesia-soaked brain. "If it hurts, I'll just reheat them tomorrow." She had been bested. Or didn't want to argue with her spoiled, incredibly high child she was positive that had nearly died in front of her eyes that morning. With a sigh, she sulked out the door.
After devouring more calories that someone as sedentary as a recent wisdom tooth removal would ever need, I received a text. It always brightens my day when I hear my phone vibrate unprovoked, but this time it was even more special. Dear old manfriend had responded to an earlier disclaimer about any bats.hit crazy ramblings I might send him post-operatively. I like to think of it as preemptive damage control. He told me I was insane, which I took offense to in my overly medicated state and started crying over. God help me. But he asked how I was feeling and was quick to share that he was going to be undergoing the same procedure soon. My comfort quickly faded in to deep shock and horror, as I realized he's nearly 21, and lives alone. "BUT. :( Who's going to take care of you?!" That poor, pitiful creature. Left all alone to fend for himself and potentially trip down a flight of stairs trying to make his way to the kitchen. Yes, he'd certainly kill himself at some point or another, leaving me without a suitable cuddle pillow/chew toy. Unacceptable.
I'm going to see Manfriend in a week. I'm supposed to be there on a "field trip", but this will no doubt end in covert shenanigans. As I'm staying at his house and honestly, what did anyone expect? The only problem is some asshole thought it would be a good idea to sew my gums to my cheek. I have difficulties smiling, let alone manipulating my tongue in any sort of fashion even relatively appealing.This proves difficult when trying to eat without slobbering, brush your teeth or speak clearly. Is it safe to cut the stitches out of my face?
They're apparently dissolving stitches, but are long overstaying their welcome.
I've thought about drinking a lot of soda/lemon juice, as the acid breaks them down faster.
Ideas?