On Friday they tore out my teeth. It really hurt. Still does. My wisdom teeth had held their ground for twenty-odd years and they did not go easily. "Real sweethearts" said the doc. "See those roots? Like corkscrews. We're going to have to slice them up." Uh, my teeth you mean? "Yep, we'll saw them in half." Oh. Right.
After the procedure they gave me Percocet. The doc sang its praises: "Hoo-ee, you're going to love this drug," he said. The rest of the office staff delighted in describing how stoned I was going to be. It was like a freshman dorm party. I got home, popped a Percocet, and waited to kiss the sky. Oh, and oops, splashed some water onto my puffy lips at the bathroom sink.
Blood started pouring out my mouth. Bright, red, arterial blood, like I'm pretty sure the good doctor nicked the carotid artery while gouging out my ivories. Blood down my chin, down my neck, soaking into tea towels. Back to the car, and back to the surgeon's office.
The Percocet started kicking in while I sat in the passenger seat. It coiled around me like a great hairy boa constrictor and began to squeeze. I started to drown in fuzz. My vision splintered and each shard was a knife soaked in nausea. I struggled but soon I couldn't see anything but a saturated blur, hear anything but a rushing cacophony, say anything that wasn't a spluttering gurgle. Then I passed out for a while.
Rachelle and a very kind stranger, who I think had red hair and a blue military uniform, dragged me into the doctor's office. I only barfed once in the lobby, and I'm almost sure I didn't gak on the nice man's shoes. The staff gauzed me back up, but didn't take me seriously on the having-a-bad-trip front. I'm not surprised since I wasn't at my most persuasive.
On the way back home, we stopped to admire the view of the water at Gorge and Parkview while I decorated the pavement there with copious amounts of vomit and dark clotted blood. The stains were still there this morning! I checked!
The rest of the day was a dull iron ache and not worth describing, except to say that every bowl I heaved up over the course of the day boasted some new and exciting colour from Satan's Fall fashion collection.
It turns out I don't react well to Percocet.
And earlier today I found a piece of tooth in my mouth. This is NOT adding up to a positive experience.
