Post by lari on Jun 30, 2011 16:16:23 GMT -5
Ok, so it's not that back, I just thought that would be a funny title.
I'm kinda said. I've been in my right mind the whole time. Everyone says it makes you act silly, the meds, but not me. I've done nothing silly, and it greatly disappoints me. I held a good conversation with the nurse, even though the gauze in my mouth made it hard to understand me. I held another one with my mom on the way home, who ignored me when I tried to talk instead of patiently listening like the nurse had. I remember every second that happened before I was under. Every second that happened after I woke.
They took into the room, hooked me up with the gas, and put these pads on my arms and one of my legs, which later Nurse Lady connected with wires. It made a beeping sound that recorded my breathing, and would take my blood pressure ever two minutes (which annoyed me to no end). She asked if I wanted to keep the teeth, I said no. She left me alone for a little while, waiting for the gas to kick in.
The gas smelled really good. But eventually the fragrance wore off, and I couldn't smell it very well. I was sad.
The song "Another Debut in Paradise" came on, which I sang to. Then Nurse Lady came in and turned on this thing she referred to as "The suction." Another song came on, but "the suction" was too loud for me to hear it. I tried to turn around and see it, as it reminded me of the sound of a chain saw, but my mask almost fell off. I adjusted it, which made the beeping beep faster, which bothered me. But the fragrance came back, so I was happy.
My vision froze at the image of the corner of the room. White ceiling, blue walls, pictures of x-rays (not mine) and some blue sky from the window. The heart beat and suction made a steady rhythm.
I could hear them talking, sometimes. With an urgency that made me scared. I remembered some of the words when I first woke up, them echoing in my head. I've forgotten it all by now, like a dream you first remember, but when you try to remember later, it's already faded away. I do remember the Nurse Lady saying, "Yes, keep the teeth. She didn't want them, but her mom did." I also remember, "You should leave and pull the car around. I'll have her down in a wheel chair."
My mom's slamming of the door-she doesn't ever realize how loud she is-was what I woke up to. The nurse trying to talking to me, persuading me into a chair (I wanted to walk, but had lost all my sense of balance and I still hadn't woken up all the way. I remember contemplating this while in the chair and on the way home. I still had my mind, thankfully.)
At home, my mom justed that fake sweet voice that she always uses when I'm sick. But she didn't help me walk into the door. I had to use her car, my car, the dead bush, and the brick wall to get to the door. Not to mention I almost crawled up the stairs. I told myself I wasn't tired, but when I sat down on my bed, I was out.
My mom woke me up at noon with my meds, apple juice, chocolate pudding, and a sandwich. It was doctor's orders to eat the sandwich, as it "gets me chewing which helps the pain go away faster." I got my mom to cut it in fourths (going diagonal in both directions) and was only able to eat a fourth, giving the crust to my dog. The sandwich tasted like cardboard, and I kept biting my numb, bottom lip so many times that I eventually drew blood. Not that I was bothered by it, as my mouth already had the taste of blood in it.
My mom was being so nice, right? I think it was mostly because she had nothing better to do; whatever show she was watching was at a commercial, so she had time, right?
After putting more gauze in my mouth (which not only tastes like cardboard, like the sandwich, but like rusty, metal cardboard, because of the blood) and taking another long nap, I woke up at about 4:30 in a bit of pain. The meds were starting to ware off, and I was supposed to take them half an hour earlier. My mom was sleeping in her bed, and I woke her up. Just to have her move to the den and go back to sleep. So I poured my own apple juice, though I ended up dropping the bottle (luckily it still had the cap on at the time). I got the rest of my sandwich (though I found it really difficult to take off the plastic wrap). I got some banana pudding (though it took me awhile to get it out of the packaging, and even longer to open it, causing me to stab it with my spoon eventually). Now the meds I couldn't open. I didn't have enough strength. So I woke my mom again, asking for help, only to get glared at. She mumbled snide comments under her breath as she got me some meds.
She does this a lot. The snide comments thing. She will take to herself, cursing out those around her and complaining about others to herself (probably because she's the only one who will listen to herself.) Like at high school when that loser kid walks by and the two popular girls lean in and whisper hateful, judgmental, narrow-minded comments to each other and laugh. That's what my mom does, except she plays the role of both popular girls. She even laughs afterward. And she thinks she's whispering low enough for no one to hear, but she's speaking in a "normal" inside voice. The volume everyone normally talks inside? That's her whispering. So I can hear her perfectly well as she puts me down.
Eventually she gets me the pill, and I sit in my room, eating the cardboard sandwich and the disgusting pudding (banana pudding doesn't taste that good in a cup, with no wafers or chunks of banana). And she's still on the couch, snoring so loud that even with my door closed, she's so loud I can hardly think.
And thanks to the damn meds that actually don't make you silly (thanks for lying to me, world!), I get to remember every minute of it.
She just called me to put the dog outside, even though she's only ten feet away and I'm on the other side of the house. Hold on, let me open my door and walk all the way to the other side of the house, even though every time I walk I feel like I'm going to pass out. Just for the sake of the lazy ass not moving. Bye.
I'm kinda said. I've been in my right mind the whole time. Everyone says it makes you act silly, the meds, but not me. I've done nothing silly, and it greatly disappoints me. I held a good conversation with the nurse, even though the gauze in my mouth made it hard to understand me. I held another one with my mom on the way home, who ignored me when I tried to talk instead of patiently listening like the nurse had. I remember every second that happened before I was under. Every second that happened after I woke.
They took into the room, hooked me up with the gas, and put these pads on my arms and one of my legs, which later Nurse Lady connected with wires. It made a beeping sound that recorded my breathing, and would take my blood pressure ever two minutes (which annoyed me to no end). She asked if I wanted to keep the teeth, I said no. She left me alone for a little while, waiting for the gas to kick in.
The gas smelled really good. But eventually the fragrance wore off, and I couldn't smell it very well. I was sad.
The song "Another Debut in Paradise" came on, which I sang to. Then Nurse Lady came in and turned on this thing she referred to as "The suction." Another song came on, but "the suction" was too loud for me to hear it. I tried to turn around and see it, as it reminded me of the sound of a chain saw, but my mask almost fell off. I adjusted it, which made the beeping beep faster, which bothered me. But the fragrance came back, so I was happy.
My vision froze at the image of the corner of the room. White ceiling, blue walls, pictures of x-rays (not mine) and some blue sky from the window. The heart beat and suction made a steady rhythm.
I could hear them talking, sometimes. With an urgency that made me scared. I remembered some of the words when I first woke up, them echoing in my head. I've forgotten it all by now, like a dream you first remember, but when you try to remember later, it's already faded away. I do remember the Nurse Lady saying, "Yes, keep the teeth. She didn't want them, but her mom did." I also remember, "You should leave and pull the car around. I'll have her down in a wheel chair."
My mom's slamming of the door-she doesn't ever realize how loud she is-was what I woke up to. The nurse trying to talking to me, persuading me into a chair (I wanted to walk, but had lost all my sense of balance and I still hadn't woken up all the way. I remember contemplating this while in the chair and on the way home. I still had my mind, thankfully.)
At home, my mom justed that fake sweet voice that she always uses when I'm sick. But she didn't help me walk into the door. I had to use her car, my car, the dead bush, and the brick wall to get to the door. Not to mention I almost crawled up the stairs. I told myself I wasn't tired, but when I sat down on my bed, I was out.
My mom woke me up at noon with my meds, apple juice, chocolate pudding, and a sandwich. It was doctor's orders to eat the sandwich, as it "gets me chewing which helps the pain go away faster." I got my mom to cut it in fourths (going diagonal in both directions) and was only able to eat a fourth, giving the crust to my dog. The sandwich tasted like cardboard, and I kept biting my numb, bottom lip so many times that I eventually drew blood. Not that I was bothered by it, as my mouth already had the taste of blood in it.
My mom was being so nice, right? I think it was mostly because she had nothing better to do; whatever show she was watching was at a commercial, so she had time, right?
After putting more gauze in my mouth (which not only tastes like cardboard, like the sandwich, but like rusty, metal cardboard, because of the blood) and taking another long nap, I woke up at about 4:30 in a bit of pain. The meds were starting to ware off, and I was supposed to take them half an hour earlier. My mom was sleeping in her bed, and I woke her up. Just to have her move to the den and go back to sleep. So I poured my own apple juice, though I ended up dropping the bottle (luckily it still had the cap on at the time). I got the rest of my sandwich (though I found it really difficult to take off the plastic wrap). I got some banana pudding (though it took me awhile to get it out of the packaging, and even longer to open it, causing me to stab it with my spoon eventually). Now the meds I couldn't open. I didn't have enough strength. So I woke my mom again, asking for help, only to get glared at. She mumbled snide comments under her breath as she got me some meds.
She does this a lot. The snide comments thing. She will take to herself, cursing out those around her and complaining about others to herself (probably because she's the only one who will listen to herself.) Like at high school when that loser kid walks by and the two popular girls lean in and whisper hateful, judgmental, narrow-minded comments to each other and laugh. That's what my mom does, except she plays the role of both popular girls. She even laughs afterward. And she thinks she's whispering low enough for no one to hear, but she's speaking in a "normal" inside voice. The volume everyone normally talks inside? That's her whispering. So I can hear her perfectly well as she puts me down.
Eventually she gets me the pill, and I sit in my room, eating the cardboard sandwich and the disgusting pudding (banana pudding doesn't taste that good in a cup, with no wafers or chunks of banana). And she's still on the couch, snoring so loud that even with my door closed, she's so loud I can hardly think.
And thanks to the damn meds that actually don't make you silly (thanks for lying to me, world!), I get to remember every minute of it.
She just called me to put the dog outside, even though she's only ten feet away and I'm on the other side of the house. Hold on, let me open my door and walk all the way to the other side of the house, even though every time I walk I feel like I'm going to pass out. Just for the sake of the lazy ass not moving. Bye.