So I'm sitting here with a sleeping daughter, propped up with ice packs on either side of her face, who just a couple of hours ago was crying in pain until the Vicadin finally kicked in. She is minus 4 wisdom teeth, plus she had an eye tooth exposed that never came in (they hooked a chain to it so it can get tied into her braces and dropped into position). Poor Sis.
She went in at 8:45 this morning, sullen and cranky, and 2 hours later I walked her to the car animated and chatty (with a full mouth of gauze no less). It was a pretty entertaining drive home as the drugs they gave her made her a little goofy (and kind of like a 5 year old).
Here are some highlights of what she said on our 30 minute drive home:
Am I done?
Where are we going?
That lady (the nurse) pet my head.
Am I all done?
Do I have gold in my mouth?
You can't go to Walmart. People are going to get shot at Walmart, but it's just a rumor. Texas, Indiana, South Carolina, North Carolina, West Virginia...
Are my cheeks fat? Do I look like a chipmunk? I like chipmunks, they're cute.
I talked to Cam and he arm wrestled some lady in a bar on St Patty's day. (me: Did he win?) No, they tied.
How long was I in there? (me: About 2 hours) Holy smokes!
My cheeks feel fat like I swallowed an elephant. That would hurt to swallow an elephant.
Where's my nostril? I can't feel it. My nose is stuffy. Can I pick it?
Watch for deer! There's a lot of deer around here!
My tongue feels funny. (I tell her it's coming back alive after being numbed.) You mean it was dead?! I didn't even get to say goodbye. Did they have a funeral?
Do I have gold in my mouth?
Remember when I got that thing on the roof of my mouth and my tongue couldn't touch the roof? Well he can touch it now. He's happy now.
I'm hungry. My tummy's angry cause it got cheated this morning.
They tore out one of my arm hairs! They took the tape off and one of my arm hairs came out. (Just one? What, does she inventory them?)
That lady was nice. She pet my head and held my hand when I asked her.
I still can't feel my nostril.
I didn't get to count. (I told her they would probably have her count backwards from 100 as she went to sleep.) I had it memorized and everything but they didn't let me count.
I liked that blanket. How come they didn't let me take it? I could use a new blanket.
They kept asking me what my name was. They asked me 5 times! (I tell her they were trying to see if her brain was waking up yet.) Well why didn't they ask me what the square root of 25 was?
I feel like I swallowed a balloon.
When did I go to sleep? (me: Probably about 9.) Nine at night?! (No, nine this morning.) Oh. Well that makes more sense.
The doctor flicked my arm and said he was giving me something to wake up and I told him no, I want to sleep.
Did I dream? (Not sure how I'm supposed to know.) I think I should have dreamed. Maybe I dreamed but don't remember.
He asked me if I was afraid of the IV and I said 'No, let's get this show on the road!'
...and then the nostril thing, the story of Cam arm wrestling, 'they didn't let me count' and "do I have gold in my mouth" repeated a few more times.
I'm hoping her recovery goes smoothly. It's terrible to see her hurting and not be able to help. I hope she'll look back on these notes from her drive home and chuckle about how silly those drugs made her.