La Dentura

Well, not too much time tonight to talk, just thought I'd give an update from the frontline. I have moments of glaring coherency between pain medication doses, which I can use to check and type emails, and write out quick blog entries while gritting through tears until I cane take my next dose of vicadin. My surgery went well on Monday, at least, that's what they tell me. I was blissfully unconscious for the whole thing. The last thing I remembered was the doctor taping all those weirdo monitoring devices on me and saying, "Oh, before you fall asleep..." Gosh, I hope it wasn't anything important, because I don't even remember the ride back home after the operation. Mom asked me if I wanted anything when we got off the freeway, and apparently it took three tries for me to get out "SHAKE". First she thought I said Rick, and she replied that she had already called hubby. Then she thought I said sick, and started to try and pull the car over lest I hurl in her pretty little dark blue impala. But no, since I had been deprived any substinance that day in light of the anesthesia, I just wanted something to drink. And it was 80 friggin degrees. Unfortunately, drink became dribble, as my mouth was still pretty numb.
These first few days have been hell, let me tell ya. Apparently the rest of that first day I spent in tears, although the nurse swears it's the anesthesia that makes a person weepy. Oh, rather than something like getting all of your top teeth yanked out of their gums and replaced by an alien device, no that's just fucking normal. By the way, my surgeon's office staff are a bunch of anal retentive bitches who wouldn't know common courtesy and civility if it came up and bit them in their bloated derriers. Anyways...
Day two was spent in...ugh, well pain, obviously. I didn't get too much sleep teh first night, as everytime I moved my head would throb. Apparently the side where the wisdom tooth was ended up not being too pleasant, because it is now ridiculously swollen. I look like a very angry chipmunk. I saw my dentist the next day for the first of the many hellish adjustments that will need to be made to the piece, and she added a perscription for Percoset to get me through the night times. Ah, that is such a lovely woman!
How's eating? So far the last three days have been oatmeal, mashed potatoes, and as much fruit as I can shove into a blender. Oh, and that horrible excuse for chocolate known as Instant Breakfast. Gawd, what evil german nutritionist thought that crap up? Seriously, it's terrible. I am currently mumping down a bowl of mashed bananas.
So, other than the swelling and bruising, how does it look? Surprisingly...normal. I mean, the teeth do. Once I heal up, I doubt anyone will really be able to tell. They aren't that creepy perfectly symmetrical type of denture one is used to, and they are dainty and fit well with the size of my mouth. Hell, I think my natural teeth may have actually been larger. And they are a fairly pretty shade of white, but natural, not super bleached out and obvious. So, if I can block out the rest of the image in the mirror and just check out the cute little row of pearlies I now possess, I guess I can sorta see the light at the end of the tunnel. But the real light is knowing that in a few months, I'll be able to eat the first carmel apple I've had in years.