Got my teeth pulled on Monday. After the novocaine high, excruciating pain set in. The oxycodone helped. Then it wore off. I spent the night squirming in my bed having flashbacks to the extraction. I wanted to take another pain killer, but that meant I had to eat. I did not want to eat ever again because that would mean moving my mouth. Moving my mouth meant excruciating pain. Vicious cycle, huh? Also, my eating consisted of scooping half teaspoons of applesauce between my almost-closed lips and tilting my head back to make it all slide down my throat so I wouldn't have to move my tongue to swallow. Not something I wanted to do in the wee morning hours again.
And so I spent the next day like this:
Meanwhile in Eddie-land, the A/C in his office building stopped working. The same problem happened last week. They fixed it, meaning they didn't fix it. So during the beginning of the heat wave, Eddie was working in an office of over 100 degrees. He came home "not feeling right." Understatement much?
Early evening on Tuesday when the pain killers were wearing off, I started to actually feel what was going on with my body. I asked Eddie to take my temperature. It was 102. He thought he was reading it wrong, so I went to the bathroom and read it in the mirror. 102. Perhaps the fever had begun earlier and I hadn't known because I was preoccupied with the agony of eating and taking pills. The pills are on the larger side so I had to actually open my mouth to put them on my tongue. Cruel world. Cruel cruel world.
The next morning, Eddie went to work in shorts and a t-shirt and I went to the doctor about my fever which I'd had for over 24 hours. My glands were swollen. I'd called the oral surgeon and the dentist and the doctor's office, and they'd all asked me: Does your mouth hurt? to which I responded, Well, I suppose it hurts in the way anyone would feel after getting three teeth yanked out of their skull. Maybe I didn't use those exact words. Maybe I did. Who knows? I had a fever.
The doctor changed my meds and told me to take Motrin and Tylenol. Basically, I was going to get all drugged up. Which meant more smushed bananas and tapioca. Lovely. My fever reduced to 101.
Eddie came home looking wiped out. His tooth hurt. Sympathy pain. His head hurt. Heat wave in an un-air-conditioned office on an upper floor of a building. We visited my parents while the a/c in our place kicked on. My mom had leftover matzo ball soup. I ate it. I ate it as if I'd never eaten before. I shoveled it in spoonful after lovin' spoonful. My parents and Eddie watched in awe. Then Eddie and I returned upstairs where we sat in front of the a/c semi-conscious.
I never sleep with the a/c on. I hate a/c. Even during a heat wave, I turn it on and off. However, I slept on the couch for two nights, blasting the a/c. Fever during a heat wave? Ever try it? No? Good. Don't.
Thursday. A/C in Eddie's office was repaired. My fever lingered between 100 and 101. I threw three temper tantrums during the day. Why?
1. I had a fever that would not go away.
2. My body was achy from having a fever that would not go away.
3. Everything I was eating was smushed, mushed, smashed, or liquefied. I get nasty when I'm hungry and I'm used to eating solid food every two hours, so this whole malnutrition thing is not working for me. Not that it's malnutritious. I just don't like forces beyond my control mandating my menu.
4. My face was round.
5. My mouth ached terribly.
The last tantrum came about when Eddie offered me a bite of his PB&J. I couldn't open my mouth wide enough to bite into it so I did what any sane logical adult woman would do. I threw a piece of paper on the floor, jumped up and down hopping from side to side like someone learning to do a jumping jack, and then ran into the bedroom to pout on the bed. When he came in to console me, I jumped up shouting, I just took my pill I can't lie down!, and then ran into the living room where I proceeded to kick the couch cushions and throw a pillow.
He offered to squoosh down the sandwich. I said okay. He did so. I took a teeny bite. It was the best tasting PB&J I've ever had. But then swallowing it was a chore because it was so sticky. Cross that off the list until my jaw gets more mobile.
It's now Friday. I had a fever when I woke up somewhere around 100. I showered. Then I felt strange. Hmm. I felt, what's the word? Ah, better. I felt better. I still have a slight fever, but my glands aren't swollen anymore. I still have chipmunk cheeks but they aren't as round as they've been. Hopefully this week has been long enough and the weekend will bring no pain, no fever, no heat, a/c, and nothing smushed.