So my little tooth thing took a turn for the worse, and I have been out of commission for much longer than I anticipated. My apologies for the lack of posts lately, and thanks to you all for your sympathy and understanding.
In retrospect, it seems pretty obvious that last week’s fits of blogging ambition were prescription painkiller induced, and that really, I needed to just get over myself, slow down, and get better. There is nothing like the feeling of being run over by a Mack truck to put life into perspective!
The surgeon himself described my wisdom tooth extraction as a “doozer” of a job, and complained of “sore arms” when the fella came to pick me up and deliver me home. The entire week following seems vague to me now, although I do recall following one rather dramatic collapse to the floor, I was forbidden to take the stairs without a chaperone. Imagine that! This general state of fog and the accompanying wooziness, I have since surmised, were likely the result of the “for those rare occasion” drugs provided to me out of kindness, post-op.
Needless to say, these powerful pills produced some seriously intense extremes, so I guess its a good thing there were no repeats allowed. This week I was switched to Tylenol 3′s, a far less potent alternative, and while this has certainly meant fewer ups and downs, man-o-man, am I ever in slow motion! I get “stuck” staring into space, I have trouble finishing sentences, and it is taking entirely too long for me to do just about anything. My mom, who has popped by more than once to see me, has noted with humour that my mind wandering ways and slower than usual speech patterns still persist…
Then there is the not-so-small matter of my face. Now I know that its all “what’s inside that matters” and all that – but come on – a couple of super-sized chipmunk cheeks and split lip that stretches as far as the blush zone just can’t be compensated for! Not only did I feel like a clown in hell, I looked like one too. For a few days there, the little girlaboutOtown actually seemed a tiny bit terrified, and you can’t really blame her. So was I! Call me vain if you must, but I have not been looking my best lately, and regardless of my beautiful “insides”, I haven’t exactly felt compelled to leave home.
“Sick Day” via hodgepodgeillustration
Anyway, the puffiness has begun to peter away and my lip cracks have filled in and faded. Oh, and it is safe to say that I have officially stopped drooling. Having not eaten for a week, I’m happy to finally be able to swallow all variety of cream soups, but my slurping is far from surreptitious. It’s downright disgusting.
Kudos to my kind-hearted Dr. for sparing me the early days and supplying the Oxycodone, and gratitude goes to my girl for being so great when her clown-faced mom was far less than funny. Most of all though, it’s my fella who deserves the medal. Not only did he provide me with outstanding care and attention throughout, he single-handedly kept the wheels from falling off our entire household by taking on more than twice his fair share, all while wearing his wonderfully warm and loving smile. Even for those of you who don’t know what a hunk he is, his inner beauty should at least be apparent. 
Now that I’m upright again, and I can see over my own cheeks, it won’t be much longer before I’m back with my usual girlaboutOtown insights, anecdotes and reflections.
Thank you as always for reading, and check in again soon!
