It isn't chocolate, it's blood.

The title of this blog is actually something I had to say to a person today when they told me I should wipe the chocolate off my swollen, cracked lips.

Ha.

I am 2 days into my recovery.  The surgery was Monday and the first night I just couldn't sleep! The day after surgery is always the absolute worst, and this time around was no exception.
Plus my back is screwed up from the operating table. They always turn the temperature down in Operating Rooms because it slows down your body's functions and is just safer, and I imagine those surgeon's get a bit hot standing there for a few hours, and a cooler temp means less nurses mopping at their damp brows.
I was on a special operating bed to give them a better angle for ripping open my face, and this bed also included special calf and leg massagers that lower the risk for blood clots! Though I only got to enjoy the sensation of a calf massage for a few minutes before they pushed the magic through my IV and I konked out.

So Day 2 sucked.  A lot of crusty blood and wooziness and the worst backache of my life.  And the Percocet makes me tired, but also somehow makes me heart race. So I'm exhausted but can't sleep.

Liquid diet. Gets real old real quick.

The hospital gave me official permission to take sleeping pills yesterday (a nice woman on the phone explained that Percocet has a little stimulant in it to counteract the sleepy opiate effect, which is why so many people can't sleep on it, including me), so I popped some Unisom with a slug of "Dream Water" last night and it was glorious.
I even slept in!

And I felt significantly better today. Better enough that I can officially say I am on the "road" to recovery.  Although "dimly lit, snowy path lined with ice cream and SlimFast" is a more apt word than road.
The pain was half as bad today, though I am a bit more swollen.
But that could just be a delayed reaction to getting a metal plate attached to my jaw!

Either way.. and here, maybe it is the Percocet and rocky road ice cream talking, but in the midst of this suckiness, I am grateful that I have a job I can take time off from, and that I can take a 3 hour bath without worrying about what I "need" to do.  Having serious medical issues really does present a strange moment of seeing your friends for what they are, and it is always hurtful when people you value, that you thought cared deeply for you, are silent (not even a "get well" text! Not even a "like" on a post-surgical snap of you on Facebook!).  It puts things in perspective and although it is a bummer when someone close to you lets you down, it is a fun surprise when the last people you expected wish you well and let you know they are thinking about you.
It makes the SlimFast taste a bit less bitter, and the applesauce a bit more cinnamonny.

Greatest Get Well gift ever? I think so.

It makes you look forward to that day 6 weeks in the future when you can chew again!

And it makes you fall more in love with the friends you already have.  The friends that send you a video of themselves post-root canal just to give you a laugh over the fact that their tongue is numb, the friends that give you finger puppets and Happy Meal prizes because they know how to make you laugh.

So this may be a giant non-sequiter post, and it definitely did not express everything that I am feeling, and I mentioned a few things I didn't plan on (and won't remember in 10 minutes) but whatever.

And puzzles. They ROCK.

Gross, sorry.