"When we're apart whatever are you thinking of?
If this is what I call home, why does it feel so alone
So tell me darling do you wish we'd fall in love..."
-Owl City
There is something to be said about living an exciting life. Between school, teaching, and all the social drama I had been plunging into on a regular basis, any normal person would think I would have been up to my eyeballs in excitement. Yet, there is always room for one more twist in the best stories. Considering all that, consider this.
I needed to have my wisdom teeth out.
Having my wisdom teeth out wasn't something I had ever planned on including on my bucket list. Despite this, on the second to last day of October, my dad was driving me over to have all three wisdom teeth removed, hacked, and towed away.
Without going under. As in, staying awake for the whole, enlightening process. Somehow among the preliminary visits for the procedure, one of the staff had mentioned that girls generally preferred going under to staying awake... they also usually awoke a hormonal mess- i.e. bawling their eyes out, snuffling, and generally acting like emotional idiots. It was right about then that I decided I would just about have rather had the surgeon remove all my teeth than act out the previously described state of being. But, I digress.
I had texted Jacob earlier that morning to let him know I would be in contact with him as soon as I could after the procedure. I would even try to call if I could open my mouth. I honestly had no idea what to expect, never having undergone surgery. Yes, I was nervous about people cutting me up while being awake. Yes, I was nervous about hearing bones cracking in my mouth. Yes, I was nervous about the whole thing. However, knowing that Jacob was praying for me and thinking about me made me feel quite a bit braver than I should have been.
After signing my life away in the waiting room, I made my way to a sterile, jail cell like room. I wondered if this was the right place. From the looks of it, I was sure this was a place of torture and not dentistry.
Some moron had left the tray of surgery arsenal on a rolling cart in the corner of the room. Being the person I am, I thoroughly scrutinized each sharp object until I had scared myself silly. So far, so good.
A few minutes later I was saying my final farewells to my teeth and asked the oral surgeon if it would be too much trouble for her to remove all my teeth and not just the wise ones. She laughed, but in the end I knew it was hopeless. I was at the mercy of a lady with lots of knives. Numbing gel here I come.
I had never had numbing gel before and I never want to have it again. It's a terrible feeling, really. Your face feels like it died right there in its place. You want to slap it and poke it and slap it some more, but still... no good. I had my doubts about whether or not this would prevent me from feeling someone slicing open my gums. I guess it was a risk I would have to take, because it wasn't as if I could turn back now.
Before too long, all the glorious devices of torture were wrangling the only wisdom teeth I had out of my mouth. There is nothing as dreamlike as having your head yanked up and around by your teeth until they come out, nor is there anything like having the novocain wear off before the final tooth can be removed. Allow me to spare you further descriptions however, and assure you it was a successful yanking despite the slight setback.
I was a bit hazy after the ordeal. Maybe it was the fact that I STILL couldn't feel my face. I was sure my lips were in my lap, or at least dribbling down to my stomach. I had gauze shoved so far up my face, yet I couldn't feel much of anything. I wondered if this was an equivalent to water boarding or something.
My dad came to pick me up and fill out the follow up pain killing prescription. I was too busy texting Jacob that I was still alive (mostly). My fingers hadn't suffered any damage anyways, no matter how awful my face was sure to look at the moment.
When I got home, my poor mother was greatly disappointed that I would not let her help me with anything. I was supposed to be taking pain killers, but I didn't want to. I was supposed to be lying down in bed, but I didn't want to. I was supposed to be icing my face, but I was only doing so with mild interest. I was too busy feeling half dead and wishing Jacob was there to snuggle into.
Being the dork I am, I decided to try and study. I still hadn't taken any pain killers, and my face was beginning to throb. However, it wasn't too bad and I honestly didn't want to open my mouth if I didn't need to. The pain was tolerable, so I let it be.
About 35 minutes into my 'studying', I realized I felt a bit funny and decided maybe I should just sit and do nothing. I posted a long, rambling description of my ordeal on the forums, then resorted to sitting and doing nothing. About 2 minutes after 'sitting and doing nothing', I still felt funny, so I decided to sit in bed. About 30 seconds later, I decided to just lie in bed. Within 10 minutes of suddenly becoming very cold and tired, the novocain wore off and the post surgery pain hit full force.
This whole time Jacob had been texting me. Generally speaking, he had been everything a good boyfriend should have been had he been a boyfriend. He worried about me, wished he could be there, and said the sweetest things that would've made me smile had I been able. Right then however, as I lay in bed literally on the verge of crying from the physical pain, he called me. As I fumbled for my phone and answered, I was so relieved to hear his voice. Nothing could've made me happier at the moment.
"Hey baby, how are you feeling?"
His voice was soft and low and made my shivering body wish quite desperately he was within hugging distance. I buried under about 3 blankets and tried my very best to explain the procedure and how I was now withholding pain medication due to either lack of intelligence or stubbornness. I shivered more, tried to talk more, and listened to him talk most. He made me feel so cared for even from 1,017 miles away.
I could barely say anything, yet I didn't want to hang up the phone. I didn't care if he didn't say anything, just having him on the line made him seem that much closer. Just knowing he was concerned about me made me feel like it was my job to get better and stop moaning about the holes in my mouth. I wanted to fall asleep, but I wished he was there with me at the same time. What I wouldn't give to have that...
Eventually he did let me go, but as soon as he hung up the pain I had been ignoring came rushing back. I had to continuously change the gauze in my mouth which reopened the sensitive cuts. It came in waves and sometimes, it was blinding. I wished Jacob was there for the millionth time. I wrinkled my nose, wrinkled my blankets, but I refused the thought of pain meds. I was too tired and didn't even want to think about opening my mouth.
Throughout the rest of the day, Jacob was the source of light that kept me optimistic. As it was, I was feeling rather depressed about how little I would be able to train for the next 3 weeks. The pain wasn't helping.
I was exhausted for what seemed like no reason. As a first time surgery person, I couldn't figure out why I would be so tired from not doing anything. The thought that maybe my body was in serious shock didn't occur to my muddled brain. Nevertheless, Jacob texted me all day and made me feel beyond treasured. I thanked God for him all day. A lot. I sent him a candid picture of me looking half dead in a sweatshirt under a blanket.
 |
| Comatose and three less teeth never looked more exhausted. |
The bad news was, it was now about 5 hours after surgery. I hadn't had anything to drink, let alone eat. I was getting more tired (no kidding), and by about 6pm I had dropped close to 5 pounds. I, however, was quite content to simply lie comatose in bed and shiver.
By 9pm, my mom had had enough and told me I looked terrible. I had come downstairs to inform everyone that after 9 hours my mouth had finally stopped bleeding and slumped on the kitchen floor in an undignified heap. Being a good mother, my mom made me take Advil and made me drink something. I ended up staying up until 10pm at least, but with no pain and no energy, I eventually did collapse and fall asleep.
It had been quite an adventurous day, but despite everything I had found reason #654392082353 as to why I loved Mr. Jacob Clifton. He was relentlessly caring and knew exactly how to keep me strong when I was in the middle of something rough. He thought I was beautiful even when I was half dead under twenty blankets and sounded like a dying walrus. Now, there is nothing more sickening than a guy who says a girl is beautiful no matter what. But I honestly and truly felt that he meant every word.
I was still amazed that a guy like Jacob was after me. Through all I'd struggled to understand, struggled to work through, and struggled to make reality, there he was. At the end of it all, there was Jacob Clifton, holding my heart.
I guess you could say for someone with three less teeth, I was pretty darn lucky.
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