Percoset is not all that
So I’m back home and swollen but my lovely husband and lovely sister are fiercely taking good care of me and making me lie down a lot. In fact, I’m sneaking in this little post since even blogging does not apparently count as relaxing. Which depending on the day, I suppose could be true.
To quickly recap, IV sedation is (as EW pointed out in her last comment) a scarily effective means of knocking people out. The dentist said, “Here you go, just like a couple of cocktails, but very very quickly.” And I said, “Wow. And I don’t usually start drinking until after five,” and that was it. I did wake up before the absolute end but clearly there was only the poking around stage left, not the actually yanking. I have pretty much been in bed or on the couch since, complaining about how percoset doesn’t seem to dull the pain much, but only makes me feel cranky and tearful. Two tablets help more so that’s what I’m on. If this is really incoherent, someone comment to that effect and I’ll delete it. Blogging on opiates cannot be quite so much jolly fun as blogging drunk.
Still, it’s all over bar the recovery. It’s very very odd to lie around doing nothing. Especially since having children, there never seems to be enough time to do nothing. Or even to do one thing at a time. I rarely read, but I’m knitting too. I watch television and sort laundry. I cook and catch up on phone calls. I drive and catch up on more phone calls. I clean house while trying to play games with the children. It’s come to the point where if I’m only doing one thing, it feels indulgent and strange. Like that pre-Christmas baking binge — that was almost a luxury. Just baking, even piles and piles of it, was beautifully single-minded.
I think that I need to do more of that single-mindedness stuff. Multitasking is not only tiring but can get completely out of hand. I find myself trying to blog and converse with Ed about mortgages, or trying to read one book while listening to another on tape. One thing at a time would make far better mental sense.
I am hoping that our upcoming move will result in a life with more hours in the day (read, less driving time) and that one thing at a time will become the norm, rather than a slightly illicit indulgence.
I am so glad you are okay, but then, I’m sorry you’re not perfectly great. The neat thing about that particular surgery (if I remember correctly), is that the pain diminishes fairly quickly as long as you don’t smoke or drink soda pop, resulting in dry rot or whatever that is when the little holes get upset.
And yes; one thing at a time is a little bit foreign to us, isn’t it? But here it is, eleven am, I’m sick and so I’m allowed to just sit with a cup of coffee. While it tastes like phlegm, at least I have this luxury.
Which is really nice.
Take care, you are in my thoughts.
Glad you made it through, although I can’t imagine having wisdom teeth out as an adult. I had mine out when I was 18. I think I had all 4 pulled at the same time.
One word of advice: no popcorn until you’re healed. I’m just sayin’ …
We mothers often get into the trap of “if we are not busy, then what is our value?”
Your health and recovery is worthy of your “do nothing” time. Dry socket really sucks, too, believe me.
Take care!
I can feel your pain from here. Take care of yourself for a few days.
Oo – I had to have all four extracted at once (and roots like the tree of life, too). I’m cringing in sympathy.
Instead of using your regular toothbrush, use a toddler sized one…one of those itsy bitsy toothbrushes. That way, you don’t have to open your mouth as wide, and you won’t accidentally bump the extraction sites while you’re brushing.
So hope you feel better soon. Take care of yourself – or better still let other people take care of you.
Amanda Lilley – an Art Historian at York Uni when I was (we were) there – once told me “Just do one thing at a time and one thing after another”. I can’t remember why she told me this (and I remember little Medieval Art too) but it stuck with me. I don’t stick to it most of the time, but it’s an excellent mantra in times of overload, and something to work towards.
I hope you’re feeling better. Why is it that we feel bad if we’re not doing something productive all the time? I don’t even have kids, but when I’m home, if I’m not writing, I should be cooking, or cleaning, or calling my parents, or going to the gym for god’s sake. This cannot be good for us.
Wisdom tooth extraction is the only surgery I have ever had and I remember it being very horrible. I’m sending healing vibes!
OH, ouch!
I had mine out about 2 years ago. It wasn’t, from what I remember, all that bad. They all came out at once. (For some reason I only had three) I think I managed on just Motrin.
But, my experience with percocet, after another surgery (for a by-then-nonexistent ovarian cyst, but that’s another story), was: take percocet, fly high as a kite for half an hour, pass out for 4 hours, wake up, puke, rinse, lather, repeat.
No, I don’t do well with strong drugs.
Hope you’re better by now.