Thursday, April 28, 2011

Really?

Who has two thumbs and two dry sockets?


This girl.  
She also clearly has two intense under eye circles, but don't hate.  


I really don't have a lot of positive things to say about today, unfortunately, it was just one of those days.  Anything that starts with an appointment at the oral surgeon's office and ends with getting screamed at and flipped off in a grocery store parking lot (cars make people insane) is just not a day to dwell on.  So in an effort to put less negativity out into the world (something I am really trying to work on in my life), I will keep it brief.  First... a bit of whining.

Dry sockets, or whatever the heck is wrong with my mouth, SUCK.  They suck, kids.  There's no better word for it.  The whole thing is just hateful.  I'm still not completely convinced that I have dry sockets because from what I understand, the pain of dry sockets is pretty much unbearable, and I am a wimp with no pain tolerance, so if I have been functional for the past week, dry sockets seem like an extreme diagnosis.  Especially since I don't have the other symptoms.  But I'll go with whatever the oral surgeon says.  The appointment was quick, at least, if not even remotely painless.  He cleaned out the sockets (oh, how I wish I could forget that glorious moment), declared dry sockets, and packed me full of medicated gauze.  Now I taste like cloves.  I don't like cloves.  And I have to get the dressings changed on Friday... then most likely again on Monday... and really, I have no idea when the whole thing will be over.  Which makes me upset and causes me to throw childish temper tantrums on my couch because all I want is a salad, but I'm scared of anything crispy, and I just want to get better so I can run and get started on this:


Buuuuuuut (and now I'll quit whining)... I'm trying to make the best of it.  Maybe tomorrow I'll have some chai and just pretend the cloves are extra spice.  And even if it tastes gross, it's made all the difference - for the past few days, I've had dull pain through my lower jaw that radiated up to my ears.  Now I'm pretty much pain free, knock on wood.

Plus, the benefit of going to the oral surgeon is that his office is right by a fabulous mall.  And the benefit of having your mommy watch you writhe in pain while going to the oral surgeon is that she feels bad and takes you shopping and says that everything you try on at Forever 21 looks really cute on you.  I'll probably work that angle again on Friday when I get the dressings changed.  There's got to be some benefit to all this nonsense, right?  Might as well be a fabulous new wardrobe for yours truly.

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