33 Days

Ok, I don't think it's physically possible to have gotten any worse of a night's sleep last night. I was up every two hours naturally and up every four to take pain medication. My jaw still hurts but the bleeding stopped so I'm no longer gagging on the gauze that was stabbing at my incisions. I am, however, extremely nauseated most of the time. If I throw up, I lose the blood clots that are protecting me from a whole hell of a lot of pain. I"m at a decreased risk of losing them by Thursday morning, so that's when I plan on beginning to eat solid foods.

Yay diet! I wish it wasn't a liquid diet, but I can only take what they've forced on me. I'm also unable to do any serious movements; no working out, no playing Wii, nothing. I tried going downstairs to get myself a glass of milk from breakfast and that made me want to throw up and pass out simultaneously.

The whole day was like that. I'd take meds, fall asleep, wake up an hour before meds are due, take them and fall back asleep. The real kicker was the nausea that hit me like a tsunami around five that evening. I throw up = I lose the blood clots = a lot of pain. I was maxed out on the anti-nausea medications from my hip surgery and I was, essentialy, shit outta luck. I had been in this nauseated hell for around four hours when I could no longer take it. The ice bags around my neck were making me nauseated (smell), the chicken bullion Mom brought me for dinner made me nauseated-er, the way the TV moved too quickly was only making things worse.

I was at the point of no return. I had woken up in a fit of nausea while Mom was out getting cigarettes. I called her and explained (with a towel over my mouth just in case) that I was losing my uphill battle. She came home as quickly as she could, checked on me, and went downstairs for something. I had officially lost my battle. I was pounding viciously on the wall for her help... and nothing. (she thought it was our next door neighbors.) It all came out at once... and then came out my nose. All airways were blocked and I had to just puke. I leaned over my bed where my trashcan was and continued--not forcing the vomit, but to just letting it flow so there was no extra pressure on the incisions.

I had already had a few tiffs with Kel. I kept texting him for support and all he'd say is "What do you want me to do about it?" and "Where's your Mom? She can help you". Really, kid? All I want is for you to tell me it's all right. Now after hours of him pissing me off by lack of sympathy, I have to tell him that my rocket-vomit got on his box spring. Not noticeable by any means, but happened nonetheless. It didn't matter to him that I also puked down my leg or on my laptop nor did it matter that I didn't lose the blood clots in this mess. It was his first and only concern. He compaired it to him spilling milk on my laptop and how upset I'd be.

We have yet to stop going over the same details. I wasn't given an anesthesia option; we asked them because it makes me puke for a good twelve hours straight. They said they do it via IV and that was it. Personally, I don't think it was the anesthesia. I think it has something to do with the chicken bullion I had for dinner or the fact that I didn't have a thick coating to my stomach when it came time to take pain meds. Kelly jumped the e anesthesia conclusion all by himself and is now making me feel completely incompetent for not choosing a local anesthetic or having a wastebasket closer to me etc etc etc.

"It's hard to sound supportive over text" is the excuse as to why he keeps telling me there's nothing he can do. I'm not stupid. I know that he cant' come home and save me or call me when he's out with friends. All I wanna hear is that I'm strong and that everything will be okay in the end and that he loves me. Instead he tells me that I have a low pain tolerance and that nobody else cries from wisdom teeth extractions and there's nothing he can do to help me. Gee, thanks.