Wisdom (Teeth)

I didn’t want to have to write about this.   Since it has forced me to cease blogging for a week, it only seemed fair that I share some of what has been happening to me.  Please, bear with me, I am currently heavily medicated and I know not what I truly write or how bad my grammar are, I mean, is, I mean,… help me.

Here are some things I learned:

The best way to get your husband to VOLUNTARILY do laundry, housework and childcare, is to have a horribly painful, convoluted quadruple wisdom tooth extraction and then appear so pathetic, it’s the only right thing for him to do.  Thank you, Mad Dog.  You are a saint.  Yes, you can quote me on that but only until my pain meds run out.

That while I have lost some teeth, I did not lose my sarcasm.  For example, as I sat miserably in my doctor’s office yesterday needing to be seen earlier than planned because of my unmanaged pain, when he walked in the room and asked me, “How are you doing?”  these four responses popped into my drug-addled mind:

            “Great, that’s not pizza sauce seeping down my face, I’m not that big of a disaster.  That’s actual blood because I’m on a liquid only diet thanks to you.”

             “Super, this color of death on my cheeks is very becoming.”

             “I’m awesome, but you should see the other guy.’

              “Remember that pesky bone saw you used that kept waking me up out of general anethesia?  Give it to me and your arm and I will carve exactly how I am doing right into your body.”

Seriously, I’m not bitter at all and I owe it all to an increase in my pain meds.

Apparently, my extractions were pretty tough.  Something about the bottom two being so deeply impacted they were practically upside down and the top two being resistant to traditional methods thus, that pesky bone saw.

How can I turn this into a life lesson?

Well, it seems that my boys are adapting to all this quite well.  Their routine is completely unraveled and everyone but their Mom has been lending a hand to take care of them.   They are doing great.

This has been the best medicine for this Type A, perfectionist to be forced to let go of control and see that the world and her kids can get along fine without her. 

Okay, it hurts a little, too, but not as much as that damn bone saw.