I have spent this weekend feeling very sorry for myself. I have never had stitches before, and I don't know that I would recommend breaking that streak by having them in your mouth for the first time. As though he knew how squeamish I am, the doctor said "I would recommend NOT looking at anything for about two weeks." But, as he didn't know me and wouldn't think otherwise, that's exactly what I did Saturday morning. And as things didn't look so hot, I almost fainted. Literally. Three times. I'm not kidding. I got the fuzzy vision, the thundering in my ears, the wiggly legs. After the third time, somehow I got over it and haven't had such a problem since. I'm sore, I'm talking funny, I'm rinsing with saline, I'm eagerly anticipating the next dose of pain meds (ibuprofen has been my best friend), I'm not smiling because it hurts, and I'm eating oddly. All I want is a big sandwich on a nice Italian roll with a side of potato chips, none of which I can have at the moment. And if you think I'm telling you all this so you'll feel sorry for me, you're absolutely right. Although--things could be a million times worse, and I'm quite fortunate this is the most major medical procedure I've ever had (and it's so minor I was awake with a local anesthetic). But here's the thing--I'm a migraine warrior, I can handle womanly concerns like a champ, but--dental pain? No, I can't. That's my Achilles heel. I would honestly rather have a baby.
However, a major dose of sunshine showed up this weekend in two forms--some absolutely stunning spring-like weather, and A-train for a Saturday sleepover. A-train, like a lot of little boys, loves toy guns and rooting out zombies. As an adult, being a zombie is one of the most boring things ever. So this weekend I gave him some props from an old Halloween costume where I was an Old West sheriff. So he spent the entire weekend being a cowboy. It's as though zombies never existed (well...you get what I mean). He took his rig off to change into his pajamas and when he went to bed. Other than that...
It took me forever to figure out what that blob of lime green is, but it's a water pistol tucked in the front of his belt. He sat and ate his cookies and milk, watching out for varmints and bad guys. He built a bunkhouse wall out of his blocks, and then set up a blanket and pillows behind it because "that's where cowboys sleep." I took him to Joann's with me today when I went to buy thread, and he found a foam gun in that kids' crafts section they have with some other dress up stuff. He didn't want to go to Party City to buy a costume (he loves dressing up and pretending), he didn't want to stop for milkshakes and fries--he wanted to go straight home to play.
I'm actually wearing the cowboy hat in that photo. A long time ago, my uncle gave my brother a wooden rocking horse. We rescued it from the attic, cleaned it up, and the littlest cowboy had his horse. He kept saying the sun was in his eyes, but as it was behind him I have no idea how that was happening (he also told my mom he was suffering from short-term memory loss the night before when he couldn't remember something, so who knows).
The horse must have been a little slow, so he switched to a faster mode of transport for the modern-day cowboy.
He even collected a bundle of sticks so that he could have a campfire. He took them home in a plastic bag, much to my sister's chagrin.
This little guy excels at using his imagination, whether it's playing doctor's office, post office, anything to do with cars, or anything really. But as I used to be oddly obsessed with cowboys and gunfighters and the Old West in general, it was quite fun to hear him playing this weekend. Especially since my brother and I used to have eerily similar get-ups--
Now, I shall drink my tea, which will hopefully soothe my aching skinny gums, knit a little (I've got a sock gusset to increase), and head to bed so I can go to work tomorrow and hopefully not have to talk too much.
Sorry to hear you aren't feeling well. I'm glad your nephew could cheer you up. Although I think Aunt Bee could have used the milkshake.
ReplyDeleteWe are kindred spirits when it comes to dental dislike. I recently had my first root canal and I was sure it would be worse than my recent gallbladder removal. Amazing how the children in our lives can help us step outside ourselves and enter their lovely world! Feel better! Hope those stitches are out soon!
ReplyDeleteA-train is so cute! I especially like the pic of him posing in the porch, rifle pointed at an angle. I used to play with wooden "handmade" guns when I was little. The "bullets" were paper folded many times into a thin strip launched from an elastic band. It hurts really bad when you get "shot". In Singapore we are not allowed to own guns or ammunition. If the police finds out anyone owns a gun, the entire police force descends on your home. Possession gets you imprisonment and caning. Guess what happens if you attempt to use or uses a gun unlawfully?
ReplyDeleteBethany I have always brushed too vigorously too and have receding gums. Last year I switched to a rechargeable Sonic toothbrush so that I wouldn't be brushing at all, the toothbrush would. I need to save the gums I have! My older brother was such a "cowboy" when we were young. He even would limp when he walked and my mom took him to the doctor to see what was wrong. When he was asked why he limped he just said, I'm Chester!" Chester was the deputy from Gunsmoke TV who limped.
ReplyDeleteOh poo, I hear you on mouth surgery. I had a wisdom tooth removed by the jaw surgeon. He wasn't as lovely as your doc. I told him I can't stand needles, so would he give me a little sign before sedating me... nope he came right at me with the needle. I screamed and I should've kicked him (yelling at him did however make me feel better). The procedure was okay enough, once they had me under, but after 3 days it became infected as the b*sterd had left a part of the root in the wound. Excellent. I can tell you now, from experience, that eating through a straw for a month does wonders for the waistline. My dentist now says it would be wise to have my other wisdomtooth removed... only if I can't fit into jeans anymore, that's what I'm thinking. Love the cowboy pics, when I was about 6 I wanted to become Lucky Luke when I grew up (I still do actually). Take care, hope you feel better soon!!
ReplyDeleteThis guy told me everything he was going to do and was very gentle. He called me the next day to check in. I didn't realize how hard it would be to eat differently. I'm hoping my waistline whittles a little, because even though I'm happy with my weight right now, I'd love to have a week of eating stuff I usually avoid to put some pounds back on, haha.
DeleteHaving had four children, and having had all of my wisdom teeth removed, I agree that I'd rather have a baby than have dental surgery! My cousin had receding gums and had a procedure that I'm guessing was similar to yours when she was a little girl... it sounded horrific, I hope you heal quickly.
ReplyDeleteHe's so cute! I love how kids get so involved in their imaginations- mine get all offended when they are pretending and I accidentally call them by their real names. ;-)
Hello Bethany, I also have thin gums and found out later that it was probably a genetic thing, too. I, like you, had been told I was brushing too hard and was kind of mystified because, honestly, not only do I not brush hard, but at the time I wasn't brushing enough! The stitches are no fun, but it's all over for me now too.
ReplyDeleteDora Ingram @ CGDDS
Sometimes I feel like it must just be me with these situations--so while I'm glad I'm not alone you also have my sympathies because those stitches were awful. I was literally gagging by the end of the two weeks.
Delete