|
10 june 2000
----- It's getting dark and foggy outside, but my mind is getting clearer, I think. I was half conscious on the ottoman when the phone rang. I grabbed it "Hi Charles?" "Ungh" "It's Doctor B. Just calling to follow up on that really nasty surgery yesterday." "Ungh" "I see you've been taking the Percocet. That's good. Your operation was really bad." Why does he keep saying how bad my surgery was. "Ungh ... just sleeping ... hold on, waking up now." "How's the pain?" "Bad yesterday, ok today. Umm. Did you put stitches in the roof of my mouth?" "Yep" Then something about a hanging flap that I didn't need to hear. "Is it giving you a sore throat?" How fucking intuitive of him. He sounded simultaneously guilty and relieved. I forgot to ask him when I could start smoking again. I think it's tomorrow night, or monday. I think he just felt guilty because he kept on telling me how simple the procedure would be, and then he ran into trouble with my lower teeth, which I knew he would, and probably thinks I was traumatized by the whole thing. The blood splatter, the grinding, the cracking -- actually, it was kinda cool, like being the star of a low budget horror flick. Being awake for the surgery was a good decision for me, although I probably wouldn't recommend it for everyone. The whole thing lasted about a half hour, and I could tell by the pushing and pulling that one of the teeth was just not being cooperative. And the last thing they said to me before I left the office yesterday: "You're gonna be a hurtin puppy, and I wouldn't count on singing next week." Yes, I'm a hurtin puppy, but honestly, I could probably pull of the singing right now if I had to... The novocaine started to wear off at around 5pm yesterday, just as I was getting home. An hour later, I was in some of the worst pain of my entire life. One minute I was vehemently opposed to painkillers, and the next I was reaching for the bottle so fast I felt like such a hypocrite. I popped the pill. Fifteen minutes went by and my mouth was still pounding. I popped another pill. Fifteen minutes later I'm the poster boy for warm and fuzzy. Drifting in and out of awareness. I kept the pills going every four hours or so, all night long, brought them down to half-dosage in the morning. I took the last one at around 3pm today, and now it's almost nine, and the shit is probably mostly out of my system, and my mouth feels ok. Not great, but nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. I brushed my teeth this morning, I can bite down, I can clench my teeth, I can yawn, and I can drink. I'm gonna try eating solid shit tomorrow. As for tonight, I'm gonna mash up some canned asparagus for a main course, and top it off with a Jello dessert. This, incidentally, is a big step over the five cans of Ensure I've downed over the past 24 hours. More food, more drugs, more sleep. I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow. 10 june 1999: didn't write : 10 june 1998: welcome to new jersey : Please let me be you again. I want another chance. I want to do it right this time." And he knows its impossible, and that's probably why he wants it.
[ swim back | email me | swim ahead ] |
