It's Tuesday night, Mardi Gras. And in many ways, I'll be forced to partake of the horrors of Lent thanks to surgery. Lent is one of those religious holidays where you're supposed to give up a material possession. In flaggellant tradition, this self denial builds character, virtue, or absolution. I'm not Catholic, so I don't really care.
However, the hard reality is that I will be giving up solid food due to the wires. With surgery about a day and a half away, I'm contemplating what a month of perpetual-shutness will be like. An all liquid diet? The horrors.
It's a good thing that Stacy and Gilbert have decided to allow me to crash at their house for the initial days after the surgery. The drugs, combined with fatigue and pain, would make me rather vulnerable if left alone. At least I won't have to worry about my new drinkable dinners for a while. Once I've kicked the painkillers, I'll most likely be able to survive on my own. Well... provided Sharon makes me rice gruel.
I've been reading stories on the internet about how important it is to have family nearby after jaw surgery, if not for the convenience then for the emotional support. The unfortunate side effect of painkillers is a deep depression. So here is a message to my future self: "Don't give up! It's not so bad. The doctors just broke your jaw, shaved off bone, and reassembled it. You are swollen like a cherry right now, but you can make a project out of it. You love projects, right? Plus, this gives future jaw surgery patients a resource to calm their fears. When the swelling disappears, your bite will be corrected."
I need to eat a lot tonight. Gluttony-ho!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment