I’m back!

Sean and I made it back from Tennessee from my wisdom teeth surgery Sunday afternoon. Fortunately, our cat sitter was really flexible after things didn’t go as planned on Saturday and was happy to come for extra visits.

We left cold and windy Atlanta on Friday morning. I had a huge bowl of oatmeal at 6:30 am because my surgery was at 3, and I had to stop eating/drinking 8 hours before surgery. That part was torture. We arrived in Tennessee around noon, and I could have killed someone for a cracker. I tried to take a nap at Sean’s parents’ house so I could try to forget how hungry I was.

Food?

Barry, Sean’s dad, is a dentist and hooked me up with the oral surgeon who performed the surgery. Barry drove us to the oral surgeon’s in Knoxville. I almost got sick on the way to the surgeon’s because I was so hungry. When they called me in, Barry followed and Sean got locked out (poor Sean). Barry made sure I got to ask all the questions I wanted and held my hand when I started crying. Yes, I cried. I’d never been under anesthesia. Sean wasn’t there (he would have known to talk to me about something completely different than surgery), and I tried to control myself through breathing. Then Barry asked, “Are you ok over there?” And I teared up. Like a baby. I’m not ashamed.

They gave me the IV, and I told Barry to tell Sean I’d died. I don’t think the surgeon found that humorous.

When the nurse came to get me, I remember thinking, “I’m not conscious enough for this.” I sat in a recliner halfway in and halfway out of consciousness. People said things. Sean took pictures and poked me to try to get me to wake up. I couldn’t close my mouth because of all the gauze they’d shoved in there.

Somewhere along the way home, Barry and Sean stopped to get frozen yogurt. I wrote things on an envelope because I couldn’t speak. I barely remember this. I told Sean to text everyone I know something. “Text Tracy this and that.” “Text Amy that I’m alive.” “Text my boss.” Sorry if you were the unlucky recipient of a Sean text from my phone number!

My mom made some veggie soup, so I sipped some broth. Nothing’s more embarrassing than dribbling soup down your chin and having your mom watch as your boyfriend wipes your chin with a napkin. I’m somewhere between a 5 year old and a 90 year old.

After that, my mommy gave me a mini-Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, and I went to bed. Hello, hydrocodone.

I had some great dreams with that drug. More details to come!

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