I Need to Watch More Star Trek

I probably shouldn’t be trying to write a blog post right now. Probably I should be sitting quietly on the couch and watching something very passively, but you know what? Convalescence is boring. And lonely. Writing is about the only way I have of connecting with other human beings at the moment since my mouth is too swollen to talk much, so I’m writing. Those of you who know me in real life (aka, my Facebook friends) have possibly seen my constant posts and thought, “Huh. Melissa’s doing really well for just having had her wisdom teeth out.”

I’ve posted like a thousand times on Facebook in the past two days: that is not doing well. That, my friends, is a cry for help, but since we live three hundred miles away from anyone who might rescue me from making a fool of myself while under the influence of pain, exhaustion, and drugs,  I’m stuck hanging out with the internet while John is at work.  Not that I mind–the internet is pretty good company. It has Felicia Day and Wil Wheaton and the Bloggess (whose new book is wonderful, by the way). I think the internet really needs to be rescued from me however, or at least Felicia Day does. I probably owe her an apology for this photo, but the Flog distracted me from my discomfort for almost an hour yesterday, so she sort of has temporary hero status in my eyes at the moment. Maybe I should make one for Wil Wheaton and the Bloggess too, but then I’d also owe them apologies for being in over-zealous and possibly drug-induced adoration of their awesomeness, so maybe I should just go sit quietly and finish watching all of Deep Space Nine…

I got all excited for a minute because I thought I might be able to finally claim that I have watched all of Star Trek once I finish DS9, but that’s not true. I’ve been re-watching TNG at John’s pace (an episode once in a while after work) so we can watch it together, and it’s possible there’s a TNG episode I haven’t seen. And I still have Enterprise to go. Drat. See? I really need to stop typing and go watch more Star Trek so I can unlock that achievement instead of doing what I’m about to do, which is to write you a really useful primer of the top ten things that you should know if you ever have your wisdom teeth out that the dentist’s office won’t tell you. Scratch that. Top five. Ten takes too much concentration, which I have in diamonds. (Which is the opposite of spades, right? Not that I know what that means. I should look that up sometime, but not today, because it would require spades of concentration. Oh! Theory: spades are shovels, right? Having something in spades must be having shovels full of it. Genius, right here, yes ma’am.)

Where was I? Right. Things you should know about having your wisdom teeth out.

5. You will drool.

They warn you about the swelling and the pain, which there is a lot of. What they don’t warn you about is the drool, which there is also a bloody (but only for the first day) lot of. You aren’t allowed to be cool about it and spit either, because that would disturb the clotting. Nope. You get to drool like a rejected Gerber baby applicant.

4. Lukewarm food is amazing.

Seriously. I tend to enjoy most of my foods at extreme temps, but you miss out on so much of the flavor profile. Never would have learned that if too cold or too hot foods weren’t so uncomfortable to eat.

3. Don’t open your medicine over the recycling bin.

You will be clumsy from pain/nausea/exhaustion. The bottles are small and hard  to open with shaky hands. You will spend half an hour crying while digging through the recycling bin for half a dozen antibiotic pills that you’re terrified of not taking because stopping antibiotics early will leave you at the mercy of some superbug like MRSA and you will die. I recommend sitting down on a wide open, clear space of floor for this job.

2. It’s not just the narcotics.

I have only taken three of the percocet since the surgery because the pain has been almost manageable with ice and ibuprofen. Minor outpatient procedures are still capable of messing with you on a serious level. (See above re: why I probably owe Felicia Day an apology).

1. Charge your phone.

Because if you don’t, the battery will die when you call your husband with a list of pudding flavors to buy and he will be panicked with visions of you passing out from too much percocet, especially when you can’t answer any of his half dozen calls because the battery is dead. True story.

And now I’ve worn myself out with all this chatter, so I’m going to go stare at my knitting project and wonder how much of it I’m going to have to frog after working on it in this state while I finish watching the rest of DS9. You’re welcome.