I lost my wisdom, today. So if my posts lack their usual luster, you'll know why! I actually feel surprisingly good. I can't feel my face but I'd take that over nausea any day! My Ben has been taking good care of me, as I lay low.
Here's me in bed, smiling the best to my ability. I know, lame, right?
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Turns out all four came out without a hitch (roots and all) so I should have minimal pain in the days to come. For some reason the Doc felt the need to give me my teeth, which is slightly disgusting. I took a picture and promptly pitched them. Who wants bloody, decaying teeth lying around?
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By the time Ben came to the recovery room to see me I was pretty strung out and heavily medicated. He was allegedly asking me questions about the procedure, etc, [allegedly, because I have no recollection]. He's telling me about all the funny things I said and signed (yeah, as in sign language). I know, right? My best friend, Meeghan had her wisdom teeth out, yesterday, and was signing the word "drugs" to her husband. I must have sub-consciously remembered the story! Although I was signing "sleepy."
Meeg might just have a closet drug problem...Chris, if you're reading this, you might want to look into that.So, then Ben gets to
this story...Now I forewarn you, this is not politically correct and Ben would have my head if he knew I was repeating it...but I can't help it, it's what came out! Okay, so I ask Ben, "Am I swollen? Am I turning black from the brusises?" Ben responds with, "No, not yet." I return, "Too bad...if I did, then I would match our son." [insert cracking up....I said that????]
Okay, psycho-analysts, what does
that mean? In my sedated state, not only did I reference our black baby (and wanting to look the same), I mentioned "our son." As you can imagine, Ben had a field day with this and now claims we're having a boy!