Don't Ever Eat the Candies Before Bed

Just for the record, I don't do drugs. But my last thought yesterday as the anesthesia invaded my blood stream was "I LOVE DRUGS!!!" I'm quite sure I fell asleep with a very dazed and confused smile on my face. But I don't actually remember falling asleep, which means I certainly don't remember Dr. Chin cracking both of my lower wisdom teeth and then vigorously pulling them out from their deep roots. What I do remember is waking up and immediately starting to dry heave. I told doc Chin I don't do so well with anesthesia. I think he underestimated me. He claimed he put a special anti nausea  medicine in with the anesthesia, but I think I exposed that lie real fast.

Once I was completely awake and my head was spinning in circles, projectile vomiting, he sucker punched me in the shoulder with the most painful shot I've ever experienced. Even under a little sedation I won't forget the burn of that needle. In my fuzzy state of mind I truly wondered for a second if I had just experienced my first gunshot wound. I'm sure I cried out in pure gangster pain. Chris told me I was acting just a little "off" immediately following the surgery... Whenever the nurse instructed me not to swallow I followed with "that's what she said." I am so embarrassed. Not only do I hate that "joke" I pretty much despise anyone who uses it. But it gets worse. I also followed any favor the nurse or doctor did for me with a double finger gun shot, "the shooters." Apparently anesthesia doesn't just make me sick, it turns me into a forty year old salesman, as well. My other comments I am ashamed to mention but feel I must so I can stop carrying the shame of them with me border along the lines of,

"I can't keep looking at this, it looks like a middle school girl got her period all over the locker room," when referring to the bowl I was throwing up in full of my bloody gauze. Sorry doctors and nurses, I am beyond ashamed with my choice of words.

The nurse summoned Chris to get the car as she wheeled me out in a wheelchair. IN A WHEELCHAIR! I once had a tumor removed from my foot and I managed to walk out just fine, and yet here I was getting wheeled out after getting teeth pulled. But when I tried to walk I had noodle legs and could not stand up. So I was wheeled through the waiting room in my dentist office which is located right on Michigan Ave in the water tower (above the American Girl Doll store) with a swollen face and gauze dripping from my mouth. I saw a little boy sitting with his mother, he was staring at me absolutely terrified. So all googly eyed and creepy, I looked at him and said,

"don't ever eat the candies before bed!"

and then I cackled like the crazy old lady I was. I am dying at the thought of having to return to this office next week to get my stitches removed. It feels more humiliating than going into Bisonwitches after a night of bad shenanigans.

Luckily, I had Chris to take care of me all day yesterday. Between my gunshot wound and heroine withdrawals, I was a mess. I didn't stop throwing up jello and Sprite until late in the evening. But today is already ten times better. I am knee deep in hydrocodone and flying high.... So the moral of the story is don't ever get your teeth pulled on Friday the 13th, and try not to get addicted to the pain killers.