vicodin head
so on monday morning, ditty and i ventured out for my surgery- i wasn't really that nervous, i was mostly pissed because i wasn't allowed to eat or drink and was thirsty as hell. in no time flat, i was lying down and they were strapping all sorts of weird shit on my body. i felt like i was in an episode of ER and that george clooney was going to burst in wearing scrubs. it was also embarrassing because i had on a heartbeat monitor and my heart rate was out of control with its speed. i'm such a pro at feigning calmness, but it's a little hard to disguise anxiety when there's half a dozen people in a room with you listening to your heart freaking out. so they knocked me out and it was really interesting, one minute i was fighting to keep my eyes open, and the next i was out. a few times i was shaken awake and asked to breathe, and one time i remember my eyes shooting open and a nurse exclaiming, "okay whitney, we're going to give you more drugs now." haha. and evidently after i woke up, i said to my mom, "i'm hallucinating," and told my stepfather that i had an out of body experience. wtf.
i have all these gaps in my memory, but recovery has been a fucking bitch. i've already breezed through a bottle of vicodin. i haven't had much swelling and my doctor said that yesterday would be the worst, and if unmedicated i would be going through hell, and it scared my mom so much that she took it upon herself to become my drug pusher, and has been waking me up every four hours to cram more pills down my throat. we thought today the worst was over- until i decided to try to brush my teeth this morning. i accidentally hit one of my wounds with my toothbrush and blood started spewing out of my mouth; the pain was so great that i lost my eyesight and stumbled back to bed, miraculously not cracking my head open. so my mom has stayed home again for me, but i'm sober right now and more itchy than anything. oh, holy shit, the first night i was so fucking itchy like a crackhead, it was nuts. my writing is all over the place but the moral of this story is to get cracked out of your fucking mind on painkillers if you get your wisdom teeth removed or you'll wish you were dead.
i have all these gaps in my memory, but recovery has been a fucking bitch. i've already breezed through a bottle of vicodin. i haven't had much swelling and my doctor said that yesterday would be the worst, and if unmedicated i would be going through hell, and it scared my mom so much that she took it upon herself to become my drug pusher, and has been waking me up every four hours to cram more pills down my throat. we thought today the worst was over- until i decided to try to brush my teeth this morning. i accidentally hit one of my wounds with my toothbrush and blood started spewing out of my mouth; the pain was so great that i lost my eyesight and stumbled back to bed, miraculously not cracking my head open. so my mom has stayed home again for me, but i'm sober right now and more itchy than anything. oh, holy shit, the first night i was so fucking itchy like a crackhead, it was nuts. my writing is all over the place but the moral of this story is to get cracked out of your fucking mind on painkillers if you get your wisdom teeth removed or you'll wish you were dead.