Though my cheeks are fairly good-sized on an average day (I inherited my father's landmass facial structure, bless 'is heart), today I woke up with a right cheek/balloon, just as the doctor forecast. It's not as big as I recall my poor mother's cheek being after she had dental surgery (even she took one look in the mirror and declared herself "Mrs. Quasimodo"), but it's swollen, there's no way around it. Swollen enough so my right dimple barely makes a dent, that's how big.
To try to keep the swelling down, I'm supposed to try to keep ice on my face. They gave me a couple of small ice packs that are much more manageable than an ice bag, but still--short of holding my hand to my face all day, what am I to do? I am not really a scarf person (shocking, I know), but last night I remembered I have one of those ski bands (a loop of material that covers your ears only) and rigged it so it holds the ice pack tight against my cheek.
With the combination of a winter-wonderland pattern and ice blue pack pressed against my face, I look absolutely ridiculous. And though I have a digital camera a few feet from where I sit, I am not going to share the vision with you. (Vanity, thy name is middle-aged woman after dental surgery.) Suffice to say the "Little Rascals" came to mind when I took my first look in the mirror last night, which is better than Mrs. Hunchback of Notre Dame, if you ask me.
Well, it might look silly, but it doesn't hurt as much as I had feared--and I'll take silly-looking over painful any day of the week. The doctor gave me a prescription for a painkiller that I've heard a lot about over the years (in church basements around town), and I do not want to have it filled. It's the sober equivalent of a "gateway drug," if you will--can't tell you how many stories I've heard where a person in recovery hurts his back/has surgery/whatever and gets a prescription for pain relief, takes it as directed for a while, then suddenly finds himself forging prescriptions for the drug and taking it with abandon, washed down with a little (or a lotta) scotch. Whew!
Stories like that scare the bejesus out of me. So I'm hoping a lot of ice and a little ibuprofen are all I need, and so far they are more than enough.
Despite my cheek situation, I'm hoping to go to the movies tonight with Linda (there's a movie in town about penguins, and I'm powerless over penguins). And happiness of happiness, tomorrow night is Jennifer's open mic, which I am hopelessly drawn to, balloon-faced or not. (No, I don't plan on wearing my ski band to PACE, so forget it.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment