127 hours (more or less) after I got my wisdom teeth out

Let it be known that I’m absolutely hilarious after anesthesia.

My wisdom teeth hadn’t come in yet, but since I had five (yes, five…) of them, they needed to come out so they wouldn‘t poke through and ruin my two years of braces. I had an appointment for 9:30am on the 6th and I’ve got to admit, I was incredibly nervous. Not so much for the actual surgery part, but for the anesthesia. I know people have it all the time, but I was still scared that something would go wrong. Luckily, everything went as smooth as Kevin Bacon’s dance moves. This post is a bit long, but I’m hoping it helps people who are going to get their wisdom teeth out know what to expect. I had a hard time finding people’s stories of what happened post-surgery. Here’s basically what went down Wednesday:

2/6 1:30am Still awake. I was hoping to have fallen asleep by 11, but I was thinking about the surgery. I had been attempting to do some sudoku on my phone when I realized that I really hate it. So I spent a few hours just staring at the ceiling.

7:00am Wake up after having one of the wost night’s sleep of my entire life. I woke up like every hour because I kept having a dream that my face was being run over by a truck.

7:30am Take an anti-inflammatory medicine. Yummy.

8:30am Take a gigantic 825 mg ibuprofen pill. Chokey.

9:00am Leave for the oral surgeon’s. Commence minor panic attack…

9:30am Get there and right when my dad and I walked in, the woman at the front desk said, “Ok, we need you to use the restroom!” I felt like I was 5 years old and my mom was telling me to pee before we went to the park because she wasn’t taking me home if I had to go while we were there. I came back from my potty break to hear my dad and the mom of a kid getting his wisdom teeth out too talking about where I was going to college. I felt so popular.

9:45am Go to get a panoramic x-ray so the oral surgeon can see how much my teeth have moved since the last x-ray I got. The x-ray machine wasn’t working so I had to stand there with my head strapped into this contraption to keep my head still and biting on this lever thing for a while. Needless to say, I started drooling a bit.

10:00am They finally got the x-ray machine to work and they brought me to the operating room which doubled as the room I had my appointment in a few weeks ago. It was weird. The surgeon and nurses there are beyond nice and it was one of the most enjoyable places to be nervous, next to waiting in line to order food. I always have to recite my order like 10 times in my head and when I get there I pretend that I was like oh, there’s the menu. Let me just casually order. True story. Anyway, they couldn’t get the heart monitors to work which aided in my nervousness. They finally put these things that looked like jumper cables on my wrists that I‘m hoping were heart monitors. Then it was time for the IV. For those of you who don’t know, I almost pass out when I get my blood drawn. I’ve never officially passed out, but last time I couldn’t hear or see anything and fell on the floor. In my defense, I have an actual condition called vaso vagal, and there are other oddballs in the world who have this too. Also, I will never, ever donate blood. They didn’t want my blood pressure to drop when they put it in, so the nurse kept talking to distract me while she put it in. Turns out, I’m fine with IVs. It’s just the whole taking-blood-against-my-will part that I’m not so good with. I did the nervous chuckle and wouldn’t stop talking about how I was happy I didn’t pass out and they knocked me out. No count backwards from 10, no pick out a good dream, nothing. They probably were like please shut this girl up…

10:45am Surgery over. I honestly can’t remember much from here until about 1pm. All I remember is that I was convinced that David Beckham took out my wisdom teeth. I looked at the nurse and was like YOU’RE VICTORIA BECKHAM. Remember that I’m saying all of this with lots of bloody gauze in my mouth too. When the surgeon came in he’s like how are you feeling? And I whispered to Victoria “…shhh, it’s David.” Then I remember asking how much chipmunk models made. When the nurse wheeled me out to the car, the nurses were laughing at me and asking who they looked like. I was scared because I saw two Victoria Beckhams and then one who wasn’t even blonde I thought looked like Ellen Degeneres. I don’t remember the elevator ride down, but when I was about to get in the car, I told Victoria #1 that I was going to model so I could save up for an iPhone. The first thing I did when I got in the car was look for my friend Katie in the backseat and freak out when she wasn’t there. I texted her and said that since my dad wouldn’t tell me where she was, I assumed it was top secret.

11:15am Get home and let the hilarity begin. I really don’t remember much of anything that happened then, but luckily my mom filmed me. Thanks, mom. Apparently I was making everyone here laugh so hard they were crying. Also, I was really mean to Sister Celiac. She brought me down a really ugly shirt to change into with a lion on it and I said, “What is this crap?! You are the weakest link. Goodbye.” I do remember alternating between laughing hysterically and crying.

12:00pm Mom decides to feed me ice cream. I hadn’t eaten since 7 the night before and it tasted wonderful. Actually it was so good that I proclaimed it was God flavored. I only remember bits and pieces from here on, but I sort of remember being convinced that the movie Annie was about drugs and that the painkillers made me feel so good, I should be a drug dealer. My mom was talking to my aunt and said I was being hilarious and very surley and I yelled, “Don’t call me surley!“ like “don’t call me Shirley” from Airplane. Hey, I can be witty even when I’m high as a kite.

1:00pm Eat some pudding and take some medicine. I was really feeling fine and was actually excited that getting your wisdom teeth out didn’t hurt as much as people said it did.

2:15pm Pain kicks in. Acutally pain is an understatement. I wasn’t able to take more painkillers just yet, so I was just lying on the couch with an ice pack on my face.

3:00pm PAINKILLER TIME! Started getting texts from my friends asking how I was doing. I really appreicate everyone who talked to me, even those of you who made fun of me. You know who you are. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful because I was falling asleep off and on.

6:00pm Bleeding has slowed down so I’m not having to chomp down on gauze as much. I also attempted to eat some chicken noodle soup broth. You know how hard it is to eat soup when your lower lip feels like playdoh? Very hard, I tell you.

8:15pm I hung out with my best friend. Also known as Oxycodone time again.

10:00pm Time for bed. I started to watch Fringe and realized it’s hard enough to understand the 5th season of Fringe anyway, and it was just impossible while on painkillers. I passed out.

2/7 7:30am Woke up and made the mistake of looking in the mirror. I really should be a chipmunk model.

9:30am Shower and mozy on down to the living room couch. My mom decided to take a picture of me and Spiderbaby together since our cheeks are about the same size.

10:15am Painkillers again. I’m still icing my face on and off for 20 minutes and I think I have frostbite.

1:00pm Oral surgeon calls and tells my mom how funny everyone thought I was. I love making people laugh, even if it requires me being pumped full of anesthesia.

1:30pm Spend the rest of the day sleeping and eating apple sauce and ice cream.

7:30pm Marie brings me a chocolate shake from Steak n Shake. It has definitely been the best thing I’ve eaten for the past 3 days.

9:00pm Marie leaves and I start watching Fringe. I accidentally let it slip that I’ve watched 95 Fringe episodes since August and my mom goes NINEY. FIVE. Are you serious?! Whoops.

12:00am Finally fall asleep. The pain seems worse at night, but that might just be me.

today 9:00am Wake up with my right cheek the size of a small dog. My 5th wisdom tooth was on the top right and he had to dig around more up there, which I’m guessing is why it’s so big.

9:30am Take an anti-inflammatory before I ate anything and feel incredibly car sick. Always take the medicine with food, kids.

10:00am Breakfast of apple sauce and pudding. I think this experience is ruining pudding for me. I also got my hair cut.

12:00pm Take some painkillers that I’m officially sick of. They help with the pain but I just feel so sad and foggy when I take them.

1:00pm Say goodbye to my dog, Gemma. Our house just isn’t big enough for a 70 pound labrador plus 7 kids and two parents. Since apparently you can’t kick kids out of the house, we had to get rid of the dog. She’s living with my great-uncle now and I know she’ll love it there, but I’ll really miss her.

2:00pm I’m also officially getting sick of putting ice on my face. It hurts so much but it also hurts if I take it off. Meh. Take a nap and accidentally fall asleep on my side.

4:00pm Wake up from nap in horrible pain. It’s so hard for me to sleep on my back, but if I don’t, hurty things happen. Watch Fringe. I only have 2 episodes left until I’m done with the entire series and this last season has been a major letdown.

5:00pm Painkillers again. The pain has definitely gotten better since the surgery two days ago, but I’m just feeling uncomfortable and on edge. My dad got me vanilla pudding which was a nice change from the chocolate pudding I’ve been eating.

5:30pm Make the mistake of looking at the stitches in my mouth. The incisions are still bleeding off and on, but I’ve only had to use gauze once today. I’m getting better!

6:00pm Friend brings over ice cream bars. She broke into her dad’s stash so I was supposed to keep it on the hush hush. It’s not going to be too hard since I have a hard time opening my mouth anyway.

6:30pm Breakdown crying. I don’t quite know why I lost it so badly. I think it’s a combination of being in pain, the medicine making me feel sick, having my dog leave, not being able to eat (I’m craving biscuits and gravy, pork steak, and waffles), not being able to sleep well since I keep rolling on my side and waking up, and being unhappy with a grade I recently got for school. This whole wisdom tooth surgery stuff really messes with you.

7:15pm Eat copious amounts of ice cream and watch Whose Line is it Anyway.

9:00pm Bedtime on a Friday night? I think yes.

I read some stories of people who went back to school/work the day after having their wisdom teeth taken out. You know what I call those people? Coo coo for cocoa puffs. No matter how good you may feel, you seriously need to give yourself a few days to recover. I mean come on, some dude just dug up in your gums to take teeth out and then stitched you up. I know I’m getting better quickly, but I’m just worn out right now. Time for more ice cream.

Slow and steady wins (second place in her age group) the 5K

In between the thoughts of “Are lungs supposed to not work like this?” “I really should have more Michael Jackson on my iPod.” and “Wait, I’ve never run a mile all at once before. So why am I in the middle of attempting to run 3.1 of them?”, I had a revelation. So you have a lioness ok? She has two sons. She names one of them Mufasa and the other one Scar. What the heck was going through her head that she thought she wasn’t going to run into problems down the road? Exactly. I really should exercise more often because with enough thoughts like that, I could-dare I say it-rule the world.

Let me give you a little bit of my background story. Life was never easy for me. I was born a poor…wait, not that. A few years ago I was a bit of a chunky monkey. Those awkward beginning teenage years weren’t good to me. And that’s an understatement. As I grew out of them (although I’m still not quite out yet), I went back down to normal size, but continued to exercise even less than I already did. So I was exercising less than not exercising at all. Wrap your mind around that. Anyway, a little while back I decided I should probably get in shape, because, you know, I hear it’s good for you and stuff. I’ve already gone through every exercise-type activity from volleyball to pointe, so I thought that maybe I should start running. Since I don’t really like people, but I am super competitive, I figured it would be good for me. Then about 5 different people recommended I should start running. It was creepy. It’s like when you learn a new word, like nuncheon, and then every other word out of everyone’s mouth is nuncheon. And yes, nuncheon is a real word. You will now hear it all the time. Or…not.

I decided that if I actually signed up for a 5K, it would convince me to train. And then I didn’t train at all. As of last Wednesday I could only run 3 minutes until I was on the brink of death. I was kind of (kind of?!) having second thoughts about running 3.1 miles. I decided if I could finish it in 50 minutes I’d be happy, and I figured I’d be walking most of it. Last night I probably should have gotten pre-race jitters, but instead as I ate my peanut butter and jelly at almost 11pm all I could think is how I am so dumb for doing this. So I guilt-tripped my aunt into running the race with me, which was great because the friend I was going to do it with couldn’t make it, and it would have been so depressing to awkwardly run/trip over myself across the finish line and there was no one there for me. Sniffle.

(This post is getting long. Bear with me, because the story gets better. Maybe?) So this morning I woke up at 5, ate another peanut butter and jelly, and then attempted to painfully put in my contacts multiple times when they were flipped the wrong way. I think I was a little tired. When my aunt and I got to the race, we pinned our number bib thing to our shirts (I was representing the UK with my England shirt, and she was wearing a Baghdad shirt. We’re so cultured.), and joined the pack of runners. Group of runners? Gaggle? Apparently the gun that signals the start of the race went off, but none of us heard it. The guy next to me said to me “Uh, I guess we start running now?” So I started running. I had read enough articles to know that that you should always start off slow, you shouldn’t wear the race shirt during the race unless you want to look like a dork, and that seasoned marathon runners laugh at the fact that there are water stations at 5Ks. Hmmm. I was timing myself and I looked at my watch and I was still running after 8 minutes. And then I saw the 1 mile marker and saw I had just run a 10:17 mile. I stopped and kind of gawked at the sign and marveled at the fact I just ran a mile without stopping…and someone ran into me. It was nice to get the first awkward moment of my day over before 8am. The second awkward moment quickly followed when I saw the photographer taking pictures of the runners. I tried to pull a Mr. Ridiculously Photogenic Guy and smiled at the camera. And smiled can be interpreted many different ways. One way is that I probably looked like I was going to hurl.

Long story short, I finished the race with a time of 36:38 and came in 123rd of 231. I was really shocked. Almost to the point of crying shocked, and I’m not an unnecessarily emotional person, in case you were wondering. So I ate my complimentary bagel, drank an amazing orange energy drink, looked at my time, and my aunt and I left. Then when I got home I got an email from the race director. He said that I finished 2nd in the 19 and under category. All I could think is wait, I…ran…me finish race…finished before other human beings…huh? The top three finishers in each age category got an award and we had left JUST before the award ceremony. So we drove back so I could get the award and they didn’t have my award. So I’m getting it mailed to me. And then I found five dollars.

I was on serious I-just-ran-my-first-race-and-I-actually-did-well high, and then I crashed. Multiple times. Unfortunately my sister and aunt wanted to go to the mall and I went with them and almost fell asleep at H&M and Macy’s. Moral of the story is 5Ks really aren’t as hard as I thought they were, I’m already looking at other 5Ks I want to run this summer, and never stop to stare at the sign that says you just ran a mile. Apparently it’s not what cool people do.

And yes, I made cherry pie. But the story behind it is not nearly as interesting as my 5K story…or is it? Tune in next week/post to hear my story about me eating this pie for breakfast. You’re excited already.

Cherry Pie

From AllRecipes

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup shortening, chilled
1/2 cup cold water
1 pinch salt

2 cups pitted sour cherries
1 1/4 cups white sugar
10 teaspoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
Cut the shortening into the flour and salt with the whisking blades of a stand mixer until the crumbs are pea-sized. Mix in cold water by hand just until the dough holds together. Divide the dough in half and form it into two disks. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate until chilled through, 30 minutes to 1 hour.

Roll out one disk of dough into a 11-inch circle. Line a 9-inch pie pan with pastry. Refrigerate until needed. Roll out the dough for the top crust, transfer it to a plate or baking sheet, and refrigerate.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C).

Place the cherries, sugar, and cornstarch in a medium-sized non-aluminum saucepan. Allow the mixture to stand for 10 minutes, or until the sugar draws out the cherries’ juices. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Lower the heat; simmer for 1 minute, or until the juices thicken and become translucent. Remove pan from heat, and stir in butter and almond extract. Allow the filling to cool to lukewarm.

Pour the filling into the pie shell. Cover with top crust, crimp the edges to seal, and cut vents for steam.
Bake in a preheated 375 degree F (190 degree C) oven on the baking tray for 45 to 55 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown. Allow to cool for several hours before slicing.