Through impenetrable fog, Mom, Amanda, and I braved our way down the parkway through mists thick enough to choke small animals to drop Amanda off for her flight out of BWI. To make matters worse, this was just before eight in the morning, a time whose existance I would dearly love to forget. From there, we drove to Laurel for my 8:30 appointment to have my stitches out. Not only was I to have foreign matter ripped from my flesh, but adding insult to injury, it had to happen at an ungodly hour. Of course.
We arrived a little before the appointment time, and they saw me promptly at 8:30. The assistant asked me how I was doing, and if I’d managed to progress as far as eating some egg. I replied that I’d had chicken for dinner last night, and she was suitably impressed (as well she should, given how much my jaw ached today!). The doctor came in, pressed a button to elevate my chair towards the heavens, and had me open wide. The first (top left) came out easily enough, as did the second (bottom left – the most troublesome, pre-removal). However, the third was quite recalcitrant, and he had to dig for a bit before he could get enough leverage to snip the stitch. Then, it pulled as it came out. That painful ordeal done, he moved to the final stitch (top right), which eased out so smoothly I didn’t even feel it (which could have had something to do with the intense throbbing coming from the lower right side of my mouth). He then gave me a syringe full of the most medicinal mint mouthwash I’ve ever tasted, and instructed me to gently swish it around, then kind of push it out of my mouth, but not spit. The assistant commented appreciatively of how clean I’d managed to keep my teeth, which was nice to hear, but little consolation to the nauseating minty flavor on my tongue. I was then instructed to do that twice a day for the next two weeks. Not a pleasant thought, that one.
Mom dropped me off at home around 9, and I headed straight upstairs back to bed, gums protesting from their early morning minty abuse. I managed to nap until 11 or so, when I woke up and made my way downstairs for some food. Back to the mush level, I managed all right with a few bites of cookie dough to get my energy up while I scrambled an egg. That and the nausea (did I mention I really can’t stand mint?) kept me from getting hungry again until dinner.
Overall, I’m doing a lot better, although the prospect of dining hall food on Sunday is not a pleasant one. I will manage, however. One of my friends from school, Lei, has been kept up to date of my progress and has already expressed concern over my lack of eating habits from the past week and a half, and I can assure you she will be looming over me like an anxious nursemaid to make sure I eat properly. She promises to be as annoying as needed to get me to eat.
Now, however, I am exhausted, and I’ve got a day of packing ahead of me tomorrow. Back to school on Sunday!