Friday, March 17, 2017

Blue Mask

I had mouth surgery yesterday on my tongue and lip. I felt like a piece of fabric fed into a sewing machine. I may have run a red light while driving home. Note to self, next time get a friend to drive. I hope there was no traffic camera, and I don't get a ticket in the mail. If I do I must not berate myself. I was a bit off from the three shots of novocain. I even doubted the well marked highway entrance and ended up taking the local roads, the scenic way home. Luckily, I had three variations of directions copied out, stashed in my glove compartment. They were written large with a sharpie on a former Fed-x envelope. Easy to read while driving as long as I flipped East to West and North to South.

I'm all stitched up now. I feel like I have a mattress sewn in my mouth. The Ibuprophen I took at 7PM expired at 12:30 AM and I rolled over contemplating the severe pain as a mountain. "I am not the mountain, I am next to the mountain." I told myself. And fell back to sleep. I waited until I could have some yogurt before taking the Ibuprophen 800 this morning. I could only manage one bite of yogurt. I'm fine as long as I don't talk, smile laugh, eat. Ibuprophen rocks. Doctor was nice but the assisting nurse was very gruff pinching the end of my tongue very hard to hold it out of the way. I understand that was her job but then she was impatient and mean with me when I tried to decipher her cryptic instructions. She never took her blue paper surgical mask off. All of the other medical people were great and did not wear a mask while talking to me. Perhaps she was an impostor.

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