My Final Words Of Wisdom Tooth

The right side of my face is all pooched out and there's a big red blotch that
isn't a bruise and so I don't want to think about what caused it.

Here's the funny thing, though...at least I thought it was funny when I thought
about it this afternoon...'course, I'm on opiates...

But, get this. The other day after my surgery while I'm sitting there - wondering
where exactly my brain is since I know for a fact it is NOT in my cranial cavity
anymore because I distinctly remember it waving bye-bye and flying out my ear
during the first phase of drilling leaving me high and dry and forcing me to have
to really work hard to sit upright and look normal now that the ordeal is over -
the dentist comes in and starts telling me all the things I have to do and all
the things I must NOT do cause I could die probably.

The litany went something like this:

Okay, everything looks good. You can remove the gauze when you get home, or after
an hour whichever comes first. If bleeding continues, try biting down on a wet
teabag. You'll have to go to the pharmacy and get three prescriptions filled. Two
are for pain and one is an antibiotic that you have to take three times, spaced out
evenly throughout the day for the next ten days. Make sure you take all three and
don't miss a dose. The pain medications are Vicodin and Oxycodone. These seem to
work best if you alternate them, you know, take one then take the other the next
time. You can't brush your teeth today, but you can tomorrow and you should also
rinse your mouth out with salt water, 1/2 teaspoon in a glass of warm water, but NOT
today, starting tomorrow. I don't want you to suck anything through a straw and
don't spit! Don't blow your nose for at least three weeks. If you sneeze make sure
you keep your mouth open. Don't let your ears pop. Oh, you're not planning on
flying anywhere are you? No? Good. If you get a cold you can use your regular
antihistamine and if your nose runs, just wipe it, don't blow. Keep ice on your
cheek, twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. But after two days, switch to heat,
twenty on, twenty off. For the next couple of nights sleep in a recliner if you've
got one. Keep your head elevated and this will alleviate swelling...blah, blah,
blah, blah, blah.

His lips were moving but all I could hear was: GETMEOUTOFHERE, GETMEOUTOFHERE,
GETMEOUTOFHERE, GETMEOUTOFHERE, GETMEOUTOFHERE, GETMEOUTOFHERE...

But, the whole time he's talking, my empty head is nodding up and down like a
bobblehead chiwawa on the dashboard of a Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme and I'm going,
"Uh huh...uh huh...uh huh," like I AM GETTING ANY OF THIS! I wanted to ask him,
"Hey Buster, where were you when by brain left? It was that big gray, ripply mass
with the cute little bat wings that popped out and flew away when you were in there
drilling for the Lost Dutchman Mine!

So, I didn't comprehend anything he said and I felt really guilty about it but I
couldn't help it. In the car on the way home I was trying to read the written
instructions and The Man asked me what I thought I was doing and I told him I have
to read this stuff and he said I was nuts and to just sit back and relax.

Then, I was there in the pharmacy still totally numb and worrying that my bloody
piece of gauze was going to pop out as I listened to some old lady who told me that
television was all sex and bad words and that Obama was all for abortion and that he
was going to close all the churches just like in Russia, and then the pharmacist
called my name and asked me if I had any questions but I couldn't think of any
because I didn't even know what the prescriptions were for because my brain was in
Madagascar hunting wild Fossa.

Today I became concerned that I had missed a dose of the antibiotic and it took me
about an hour to figure out that I could just count how many pills I had left and
that would tell me how many I'd taken so far, but then I realized that I was having
difficulty counting normally because I HAD remembered to take the Oxycodone.

And, that's when I began to wonder.

If I can't keep track of all this stuff, how do the stupid people do it without
killing themselves?!

I made the realization during the surgery that the whole procedure was from some
evil science-fiction world and I was willing to go along with it.

But this post-surgery rigamarole is just too much!

And, that's all I have to say ever again about the matter!

Except tonight I have to drive to the airport and pick up my brain which is
arriving very late and will have, I'm sure, tons of baggage.