I was doing well. Now I don't even care anymore if I'm alive tomorrow. My life has become all about Tylenol pudding, saltwater rinses, banana-vomit medicine, and more Tylenol pudding. My gums are uneven, dark, and held together with stitches; and here are my loved ones, insisting I eat blueberry muffins. My brother said he would try to do a number on them, so I don't have the temptation, but they're thinking of what I want, not what I need.
It doesn't even matter if I'm asleep or awake. AM and PM are the same; boring and painful. I want to sleep, I'm tired, but I can't, because I hurt too much. I can feel my heartbeat in my gums. I don't think it's a good idea to eat mashed potatoes, but a muffin taller than my fist...Impossible. They want to tell me when I'm ready to eat, and it doesn't work like that. I haven't even washed my hair yet, because bending over is a fresh hell; all the blood rushes to my head and makes my gums hurt even more. Maybe I'll do it tonight, maybe not, one way or another I care very little.
Not even music has been lifting my spirits. It only makes me aware of exactly how long the song is. How many minutes, how many seconds. I drift in and out of consciousness in a hot, hot, hot room, wondering why I'm sweating with my fan turned on and pointed at me; and then I get up and realize that sometime during my medicated sleep, my mother came in and turned my fan away from me, leaving me to sweat to death. She says it's bad for me, but what's worse is melting into my sheets.
I can't speak properly, either. I keep slurring my words like a drunk. Words that have an S, a D, an SH, or a CH in any place-ment just don't want to come out. It's humiliating. I thought I had a lisp before; now I drool, too, like a damn St. Bernard. It's been coming slower and slower. I guess the worst part, worse even than the pain, is that they keep telling me I'm puffy, so I run to the mirror and see...nothing. Nothing at all. Just my face, looking the same way it always looks. I swelled up awhile ago, and every time they tell me I'm swollen, it brings that nightmare back to life. But I'm not swollen. This is just the way I look. And I've been looking in the mirror on and off for my whole life; I think I know the curves of my own face.
My laughing face is the same as my serious face. When I'm laughing, it looks like I'm having a panic attack; so they ask if I'm okay. I just want to scream. And I sure don't want to talk. I want to learn sign language. I want to parachute. I want to run through the cold tide barefoot. I want to stand on a cliff, looking down at the storm clouds as I scream and scream and scream, until there's nothing more to let out. And I want to sleep, until I wake up com-pletely healed and totally ready for my dentures.
And I want to talk to my friend. He's going through surgery stuff, too. I miss his positive attitude. I miss mine, too. This whole thing...better be worth it all.
It doesn't even matter if I'm asleep or awake. AM and PM are the same; boring and painful. I want to sleep, I'm tired, but I can't, because I hurt too much. I can feel my heartbeat in my gums. I don't think it's a good idea to eat mashed potatoes, but a muffin taller than my fist...Impossible. They want to tell me when I'm ready to eat, and it doesn't work like that. I haven't even washed my hair yet, because bending over is a fresh hell; all the blood rushes to my head and makes my gums hurt even more. Maybe I'll do it tonight, maybe not, one way or another I care very little.
Not even music has been lifting my spirits. It only makes me aware of exactly how long the song is. How many minutes, how many seconds. I drift in and out of consciousness in a hot, hot, hot room, wondering why I'm sweating with my fan turned on and pointed at me; and then I get up and realize that sometime during my medicated sleep, my mother came in and turned my fan away from me, leaving me to sweat to death. She says it's bad for me, but what's worse is melting into my sheets.
I can't speak properly, either. I keep slurring my words like a drunk. Words that have an S, a D, an SH, or a CH in any place-ment just don't want to come out. It's humiliating. I thought I had a lisp before; now I drool, too, like a damn St. Bernard. It's been coming slower and slower. I guess the worst part, worse even than the pain, is that they keep telling me I'm puffy, so I run to the mirror and see...nothing. Nothing at all. Just my face, looking the same way it always looks. I swelled up awhile ago, and every time they tell me I'm swollen, it brings that nightmare back to life. But I'm not swollen. This is just the way I look. And I've been looking in the mirror on and off for my whole life; I think I know the curves of my own face.
My laughing face is the same as my serious face. When I'm laughing, it looks like I'm having a panic attack; so they ask if I'm okay. I just want to scream. And I sure don't want to talk. I want to learn sign language. I want to parachute. I want to run through the cold tide barefoot. I want to stand on a cliff, looking down at the storm clouds as I scream and scream and scream, until there's nothing more to let out. And I want to sleep, until I wake up com-pletely healed and totally ready for my dentures.
And I want to talk to my friend. He's going through surgery stuff, too. I miss his positive attitude. I miss mine, too. This whole thing...better be worth it all.
I'm sorry to hear it's going so badly...is there anything I can do to help?
ReplyDeleteHow can they expect you to eat muffins without teeth, anyway?
At least the extractions are over, right? You'll never have to go through them again, humans don't re-grow teeth like sharks do :)
Mom said if I eat one crumb at a time, it would be better than nothing. Tonight I tried mashing my Tylenol up into ice cream, but that was a horrible idea. It's best in pudding.
DeleteMom also washed my hair for me. While it's embarrassing, and while it definitely makes me feel like an invalid, it was sure a relief to get cleaned up. It improved my mood greatly, but now that I'm alone again and my gums still throb I can feel it plummeting again. I've been using my hands a lot in vain attempts at sign language; when I put two different medications on top of each other I'm asking if they can be taken close together. If I use a finger to draw an imaginary circle on the palm of my opposite hand, I'm requesting a pen and paper.
Actually, people can re-grow adult teeth; L. is one of them.
I'm not sure what you could do to help; you're definitely not close by, not as close as I'd like. Just keep talking to me and I'll be fine. :)
That, I can do :)
DeleteI know some people can re-grow them, but it's very rare (luckily) - I used to think it would be cool and that I'd be lucky, but of course I was a kid and didn't know how much worse dental visits would become! :p
I remember in the hospital once the nurses tried hiding some pills in applesauce...uh-uh, not only do you still taste the medicine, but apple has never tasted so bad :(
Do they understand the sign language? Mom had no idea what I was trying to say after I had my tonsils out, even though I thought my sign language was perfectly clear...I remember 'asking' when I'd be moved up to the third floor (to recover; I think I was eager to go because I'd heard I could watch TV and eat ice cream up there) by holding up three fingers, then pointing to the floor... :p
That does sound clear; unfortunately they don't understand me much, either.
DeleteI have applesauce now, but I think I can make the assumption that I would prefer the juice.
Apple juice always reminds me of hospitals now...drank too much of it practically every time you were in for tests... :p
DeleteI adore it. I could just drink it all the time... :D
DeleteI used to like it, too...I'm more a pop person now (diet only though) :p
DeletePop is good, though I haven't been limiting myself to diet. Hopefully now, I won't have to regret that.
DeleteI have been...I get a lot of sugar as it is in yogurt, Boost, chocolate... :D
DeleteStrange, isn't it - to choose diet pop all the time, and then eat chocolate later on. It reminds me of Fluffy's joke, I drink diet pop so I can eat regular cake. It also reminds me of the chocolate pop you once brought me... :)
DeleteI prefer the taste of diet pop now, especially since sweets still hurt my teeth sometimes - and because I feel less guilty about how much sugar and calories I'm getting from my snacks if I'm not also drinking sugary things :)
DeleteDid you like the chocolate pop? I don't think I was brave enough to taste it . . .
Speaking of 'Chocolate Pop', it makes me think of the Sims Pet Stories soundtrack; I still listen to "Chocolate" (which is a "pop" song from the stereo, I guess); on YouTube people call the song "Chocolate Pop" :D
No, I didn't much care for the chocolate pop; which is baffling, because I love them separate.
DeleteI listen to that one, too. Actually, I have the gibberish lyrics memorized; it's also in Life Stories. I also like "You My Boppi-Bop", or whatever it was called, but because my Pet Stories game is corrupt, I can't hear it anymore. And it's sure not on YouTube. :(
Diet pop is good, too. I still want them to make diet Orange Crush, and diet Cream Soda. I think they have diet Sprite, but I'm not sure.
There are a lot of kinds of diet pop, but I haven't found diet Cream Soda or Orange Crush, either; there are similar things, but they taste a bit cheaper... :(
DeleteYeah. I had a knockoff of Cream Soda once; and was not impressed.
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