Chaos Attraction
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Surgery Is Still More Fun Than Work 2016-03-11, 11:18 a.m. |
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So, the post-surgery report: Wednesday: All day long at work: Let's just say work was annoying me quite a bit--one coworker in particular both can't and won't proofread for shit and my boss kept having impromptu meetings that went on for a long time and drama drama drama was going on. Honestly, the most I was left alone during the day was working the front counter, which was saying something. I mused, "which is worse, going to work or getting surgery?" I tried to get everything done before I left because god knows I'll have an avalanche to deal with next week after missing two days that nobody else is likely to take care of. I kinda hope a bunch of shit happens that I can skip out on having to deal with, like "oops, we're short staffed" and "hey, do this ridiculous thing for me ASAP." But probably not, they'll just wait for me to come back. It took me long enough to catch up after being out for 6.5 hours last Friday, for fuck's sake. 9:30 p.m.: According to Mom's phone call with whoever she talked to, I am NOT having bone graft surgery because I told them I couldn't afford it. Um, what? Also, "they really think you should have a breakfast beforehand because your stomach might be upset." I do not eat before dentist appointments so I don't throw up on anyone. I am still amazed how often I have to reiterate this to people who should know better. Also, if my stomach is "upset," then there's nothing in there to come out at high velocity, eh? Thursday: 8:52: Arrive for surgery, where they make me pop another half a pill and do their best to numb me up. I end up gagging three times during the surgery, they end up giving me MORE numbing mouthwash, and I'm all, "see, aren't you glad I didn't eat anything ahead of time now?" As far as I'm aware while kinda stoned on sleep or whatever, they did a lot of poking and then sewed my mouth up. (Supposedly they attempted to make the pockets smaller...somehow. Honestly, I'm not sure whether or not I want to ask about this or complain or what because I'm apparently too stupid to comprehend what they are saying and why waste their time when I'm too dumb to get it.) 11 a.m. Surgery did not take 3 hours as they said it would, Dawn barely has time to get a haircut. She brings me a smoothie as the periodontist required, I dribble on myself in the car and have to be wheeled out. I barely text Mom that I'm still alive and then go to sleep. Dawn goes out to watch Once Upon A Time on Netflix. Friday: Still don't know what the hell I'm going to eat though. Next week I'm supposed to be in a group photo for a "Guess the Weight" contest at work (yeah, that's weird, it's for a committee I'm on) and fuck if I know what I will actually weigh by then. I attempted to weigh myself on Mom's scale for comparison last weekend but the thing was busted, so...who knows. Then again, I didn't eat much for two weeks when I had pneumonia and lost like A pound, so....probably nothing much gonna happen there. Am annoyed about the things I'm missing out on (improv weekend festival), but...well, this was the least inconvenient time to be out. Also that way I'm doing it while my volunteer job is temporarily closed, so I don't have to figure out what the hell I'm going to eat at the weekly potlucks. Probably not going to be eating much of anything, really. This is very reminiscent of having the wisdom teeth out, except the food issues last for a week longer. Can't wait until that's over. But still, surgery is a lot more fun than work! |
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