It's Like We Know What We Are Doing

It is done. My leg is elevated. My foot is wrapped and in a boot. The surgery has happened and I have gotten out of it in (almost) one piece. I won't deny I breathed a sigh of relief over the whole ordeal. Then again, there's still so much more I have to go through... Before I was racing like a crazy person on Friday morning. I knew there were a few things I needed to do before Mom showed up. And I was running late because I didn't want to get out of bed. Maybe it was denial. I didn't want to really have surgery. But the end of laundry and a good, long shower (since I won't be able to take one for a bit of time) had to be done before I left the house. I didn't know what I would or wouldn't be able to do when I got back. Soon enough, I was sitting in the waiting room at the Doctor's office. Mom and I were chatting, but I couldn't shake the dread I was feeling. I know right after the crutch training incident, I kept thinking, "M...

I had my wisdom teeth taken out when I was 14. I don't remember much from the ordeal. I remember when they knocked me out, I was crying because I was scared. I remember when I woke up, I was crying. I've been told that as I was in the recovery room, they kept asking me questions. I guess this was to make sure they didn't dig too far up into my brain. Nurse - "What school do you go to??" Me (crying) - "West..." Mom - "No you don't. You go to East." Me (crying) - "East..." I remember being in the car, drooling blood all over my Les Miz sweatshirt (ahhh...the 90's). And then I remember not being able to eat and not being able to suck milkshakes through a straw. There was some talk about dry sockets that scared me to death. I didn't know what dry sockets were, but I could only imagine they would be bad. So I listened to the doctors. They know what they're talking about. I don't know anything. I...