I am recovering nicely, and expect the worst to be past me. The surgery itself, I don't remember at all. I just lay there in the chair as they hooked up my IV, oxygen, and blood pressure cuff. They asked me a few questions, and shortly after, the surgeon came in, ran two drugs into my IV line, and that was all she wrote. It seemed like only a few minutes, and they were hauling me up out of the chair to head to recovery.
This time around, I was feeling a lot less "out of it", and apparently wasn't talking nonsense. Or at least, none that anyone told me about. As JF was leaving to pull the car around, the nurse walked him out with my post-surgery instructions, and I heard her tell him, "The lights are on, but nobody's home", meaning I was still under the influence of the meds despite how lucid I seemed. Hey! I take exception to that! I came home, read for a bit, and once JF had loaded me up with my prescriptions, I napped off and on.
Woke up a little more sore than I expected today, but that was still well within normal range. I still feel like I got punched in the jaw, but it's not like I got punched in the jaw by Ali. It's more like I got an uppercut from a clumsy bodybuilder -- one who's strong enough to put some hurt on you, but uncoordinated enough not to land the blow to maximum effect.
The only good thing about this is that I only have one wisdom tooth left, so if that one has to come out, I shouldn't have to see the oral surgeon ANY MORE! He's a nice guy and everything, but I hate dental work. At least with him, over the actual dentist, I'm asleep for it all!
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