The last thing I remember was the doctor/dentist/surgeon telling me that I was going to be outnumbered in the room three-to-one, and that in a minute, I would know that they were winning. This was as he stuck the needle in my arm. I remember counting the syringes… there were at least three.
After that, I woke up in a room I hadn’t ever been in before. Except that I was far too gone to realize this until Laura described the room to me much later. The experience was probably akin to being abducted by aliens, except that they were all twenty-something female hotties, with the exception of the male doctor, who looked more like Ron Jeremy.
Speaking of porn, the first words out of my mouth to laura were “I want to have an orgy with all the nurses.” Actually this was after I apparently said “orgy” a couple of times until she could make it out. That’s actually the first thing I remember, but everything from then until about 12:30 or 1 this afternoon is like a movie in fast motion. I have a couple of snapshot moments before we got home, like telling Laura I should do more drugs, because I liked the way I felt, and then in the car wanting to go to funcoland. Then one more in the car saying I was glad we didn’t got to funcoland because I was staring to feel nauseous.
I have no memory of getting inside and getting into bed. I also don’t remember the first couple of times Laura put the ice packs on my cheeks.
For some reason, my lowwer right “hole” hurts more than all the other holes combined. (That’s also the tooth that hurt last weekend so badly that it prompted this whole endeavor.) So far I haven’t resorted to the perscription painkillers. A couple of ibuprofin has been enough. (Oh, and having sex with ice packs strapped to my head helped with some of the pain too.)
Next on the agenda, I’m going to tackle this fruit smoothie laura picked up at the wedge for me, and then maybe I’ll stumble downstairs to see about playing some mindless tetris. It’s already 4:30 in the afternoon, but it feels like maybe noon. Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess.
[ps, I was going to title this entry “viva wisdomlessness”, but then I thought maybe I’d see how to translate wisdom into spanish, but sabiduria just doesn’t have the same ring to it. (and it’d have to be non sabiduria anyway.) But then on a whim I translated las vegas, and I was astounded how well that fit the subject at hand.]
I’ve been meaning to write my side of this story for a while.
The orgy thing was true, and I tried to get him to not say anything after that for fear that the nurses would be offended. I wondered if he already told them but then again you could barely understand what he was saying. I also wondered what kind of *ucked up shit the nurses hear while coming “out of it”. He also talked about how he was going to quit his job(that day) and we were going to move to Europe. After asking him how it was possible because we don’t really have any money, he responded saying we didn’t need any money in Europe.
On the way home, Marty begged me to take him to his favorite video game store and offered to not say a single word if I took him (I had been telling him not to try to talk since I could barely understand him and to keep his mouth still, since he just had surgury). When I “missed” the exit to FuncoLand, I thought he was going to cry. He looked like a dissapointed 5 year old, at least he didn’t throw a tantrum.
The thing I remember most about the whole experience more then a week later was how he looked when I went into the “recovory” room. His cheeks puffy and he wasn’t able to close his mouth. His bottom lip hanging and his movements slowed from the anaesthesia. I hate saying this, but he kinda seemed mentally retarded (if you didn’t know any better). So, the whole time I was thinking about what would I do if he were in some kind of accident and he was permenantly altered.
I don’t know what I’d do.
Yeah, he was pretty messed up. I had to take the ice packs off the first time and I don’t think he even sturred that much. I just remember him saying he was fine all the time and saying he didn’t know what the “big” deal was with oral surgery. Well, now we all know from the horses mouth…I didn’t mean that Marty looks like a horse…oh never mind…