Monthly Archives: September 2013

A Missive from the Kingdom of Percocet: Days 2 & 3

Day Two of my Percocet-induced ramblings

Dear subjects,

Nurse Mommy just gave me my second dose of Percocet for the day. Percocet is great. It makes my knees feel tingly and makes my head feel like this:

Bugs Bunny

Also today one of my friends posted something and tagged my ex in it and every time someone does that I’m just like UGH GAG WHY ARE YOU EVEN FRIENDS WITH THAT JERKFACE. it doesn’t show up hyperlinked or whatever because I blocked that conspiracy-theorist-and-underappreciator-of-carbs AGES ago, but still, sometimes that stuff shows up. So when I see those horrendous posts I’m like:




and then when the post goes away I can resume enjoying Facebook and when I’m on Percocet it’s like:


Woot wooooooooooooooot

But really, I do that every time a post annoys me on Facebook. I just hide it. And then it goes away and I don’t have to see it anymore and it’s great. Why look at it if it’s annoying? I’ve tried unfriending repeat offenders but either they notice and refriend me or I know I can’t really get away with it so why bother? So then I just take them off my newsfeed entirely and I can forget we were friends to begin with. Deeeelightful. Then Facebook is fun again like it’s supposed to be.

I don’t get why people think they can affect change via Facebook. Remember that time when you were like, “wow, I think abortion is good!” and then someone posted an anti-abortion link and you were like, “wow, I guess I was wrong.” Or when you were an ardent fan of right-wing politics and someone posted an Obama-tastic rant and you were like, “gee, I really haven’t given this enough thought,” and you changed your entire political stance?!



Okay so back to how I lost all my wisdom.

You know the other thing I was worried about? I asked Mom if there was an escort for my surgery. She asked why. And I was like, “Um, duh, ‘cause what if I get date raped?”

Then she told me that was inappropriate and I think she considered confiscating the Chelsea Handler book I was reading at the time. So I kept my inappropriate suggestions to myself and iced my face and finished my book without further inappropriate commentary.

Okay so you know what is fun? Leaving the hospital in a wheelchair.

That was a new one for me, and the lady pushing my wheelchair must have been SPRINTING down the hallways because HOLY WHOA THAT WAS FUN. The wind in my hair! The air rushing past my gauze-packed, puffy face!

Then we went to get me a shake. And then there was more Percocet! And sooooooo many shakes. Also pudding. And jello. And ice cream. And these truly amazing ICEE popsicle things.

Basically I had a good day yesterday.

Today Mom is still spoiling me and taking excellently good care of me. She made me hand-mashed potatoes and cheese because I was having a sugar overload and they were DEEELICIOUS.

Also Mom called the people in the dental clinic dirty rotten liars because they said that my face would stop bleeding after a few hours and it didn’t stop bleeding until sometime late this morning, which was about twenty-four hours post-op. So if your definition of “a few hours” is “twenty-four hours or more” then yeah, I guess they were right. (Incidentally, my definition of “a few hours” is not “twenty-four hours or more” unless we’re talking about a lunch break or something.)

Also when we went to pick up another shake tonight and buy some soup, my mom said something that made me smile and she goes, “Oh, did you notice your smile is crooked?”

So I flipped down the mirror thingy and made a really hideous smile at the mirror and said, “AHHHHH! I look like I had a STROKE!”

And she started laughing and then composed herself and told me that I did not look like I had had a stroke and said that was also inappropriate. But for real, I have a hideous jawline right now. It is pretty manly. It would look really great on a cartoon MAN. Not on meeeeeee.

Basically if Johnny Bravo borrowed my chin he’d be all:

Johnny Bravo

Oh and did I tell you why I am mad at Ellen DeGeneres?

I applied over and over and over and over and OVER AGAIN on her website thingy where the form is all “know someone who needs a new car?” and Mom did NOT get a new car! That bad boy had over 230,000 miles on it and it was strug-ga-ling. It was missing a door handle on the passenger side and the window didn’t roll down on the driver’s side and some jerk knocked off the rearview mirror so she had drive around with a nifty duct tape do up on the side to keep the rearview mirror in place. It was rough.

Mama needed a new car. And Ellen did not give her one. What kind of world do we live in when one Ellen isn’t willing to help out another??

Sick, I tell you, sick.

But Mommy finally caved and got a deal on a car and replaced hers that was chugging along and her new car is sooo cute and she looks sooo cute in it.



Anyway, it is now time for another milkshake and that’s all I have for you, my loyal subjects today. The end!


Day Three

Just had dose numero dos of Percocet for the day. I’m in less pain than I was the first two days, so we cut my Percocet back. Consequently, I am much more sleepy and much less hilarious than I was for the first two days of recovery. I have also graduated from nothing but cold, sugary foods to soft scrambled eggs, potatoes, and a glorious bowl of mac’n’cheese, all ingested with extreme caution.

Yesterday around four p.m., however, I developed an extremely strong craving for pizza. I JUST WANT SOME DANG PIZZA. Reallyreally badly.

pizza plz

I have to wait though because I’m still like the turtle who can’t open its stupid mouth and also cannot chew.

I have spent most of the day timing my medicine intake (Mommy Nurse had to go back to work so I’m on my own now… DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNN) and alternating between reading Cosmo and To Kill A Mockingbird.

My thought process goes something like this –

COSMO: Hm. I should take better care of my cuticles.

MOCKINGBIRD: I should read more Pulitzer Prize winning novels if I ever think I’m going to write one.

COSMO: (while spooning a milkshake into my mouth) I should eat less. …nah.

MOCKINGBIRD: This book is so good, it’s just stupid. It is stupid how good this book is.

COSMO: I don’t know who this celebrity lady person is.

MOCKINGBIRD: Boo Radley is fun to say. Boo Radley Boo Radley Boo Radley.

COSMO: I want to be filthy rich when I grow up. Maybe I should pay more attention to this article about how JLo earned 35 million last year — oh look, another ad for shiny hair!



So then I gave up and watched three episodes of The Big Bang Theory and finished my shake in peace.

I have to go back to work tomorrow with my bruised jaw and Johnny Bravo face. It is very very sensitive so I shall have to guard it with great vigilance.



I don’t know why they would, but I’m just saying. Not a good idea to be up in my grill for the next couple of days.

Also it would be a great favor to me if you darlings who inhabit my kingdom and read these missives would “like” them on here instead of on Facebook and also comment because my younger sister is making fun of me and saying I lost my following and I think she’s a terrible subject and off with her head!

So that’s all.


the ruler of the Kingdom of Percocet



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This Message Brought to You from the Kingdom of Percocet

Note: Earlier this week I had my wisdom teeth removed. I spent most of the next seventy-two hours in what I named “the Kingdom of Percocet.” During that time I decided to blog. Luckily, I did not have the presence of mind to publish said blog entries. What follows is a version of what I wrote the day of my surgery with (most of) the inappropriate and some of the ridiculous commentary removed. (Also I couldn’t figure out how to add pictures into a post while I was on Percocet so if I had published them in their original state, they not only would have included lots of “LA LA LA LA I AM A GOOD SINGER LA LA LAAAAAAA” but they also would have said “ADD PICTURE HERE” whenever I wanted to add a picture.)


Hello dear subjects,

I am writing this missive from the Kingdom of Percocet, of which I am the sole, undisputed, puffy-faced but still completely endearing ruler.

I have some things I would like to discuss.

Number one. When you go to get your wisdom teeth out, unless you want some nervous resident to jab needles into your hands in a mislaid attempt to start an IV, don’t sign the release form that says you’re cool with it. I mean, I don’t really care. Personally, I was there to make some friends, because who doesn’t want to make friends with the people who are about to cut into your head and pull things out of it?? not me! Somebody told me it wasn’t facial surgery. Um. You are wrong. Why is it called oral and maxofilial or whatever it is surgery place at the hosptial if it is not facial? filial…brother…Latin root..something…facial. Face. Also my mouth is inside my face so it’s not even like they started at the outside and worked their way in. They just went right for the money shot, people!

But it was okay cause I wore my patriotic shoes. Mostly I wore them to keep my toes from getting cold because I have poor circulation in my phlanges or something but either way, it won me some fans. They were like, “oh I love your shoes!” and I was like, “and I love America!” and they laughed at me cause I am charming and have freckles on my nose and stuff.

(These are the shoes:

'murica shoes


Number two if you were wondering if surgery is like it is in the movies, it is not. I told them I wanted one of those rooms with the observation deck because my mother is a nurse and she was my responsible adult responsible for picking up my meds and driving me around and stuff (she has me on this super strict schedule of Percocet and Ibuprofen and something else that I think is supposed to fight infection with a rapier sword or something so it’s good because I have nooooooo idea what time it is or when I am supposed to take all these meds) and they laughed at me like it was not a serious request! Seriously people. You think I’m just going to go in there all unsupervised with you stranger dangers and let you perform surgery on my face?? I have fat thighs and a questionable propensity to retain water, which means my face is my best feature, which is why I believe most pictures of me should be from the shoulders up, kthanx. And you think you can just cut into it? You bitches be crazy!

Anyway so I lost that battle but you know, whatever. And then I wanted to know if they were going to make me count backwards to make sure I was asleep. If it was in English that would be okay, but I might struggle cause numbers are hard… so… Really though I was more worried they’d make me do it in Korean or Chinese but I don’t remember Korean backwards or Chinese forwards because I only did Tae Kwon Do for like four years and it was all in an East Texas accent and Chinese sneaked out of my brain one night when I wasn’t looking! So what if I was counting backwards, trying my darndest, and they thought I was pausing because I was drugged out and I was really just thinking really hard?!?

But yeah, I dunno, one second I was watching my vitals and admiring my low heart rate and blood pressure (brought to you by the migraine preventative propranolol!) and the next I knew I was waking up again! And there was gauze in my mouth! And I asked if I could see my teeth but I don’t think the lady took me seriously because I never did see my teeth so I don’t know where they went, probably to some tooth fairy mafia payoff or something, but anyway, then they put me in a wheelchair and wheeled me out of there real speedy quick and I waved goodbye to the nice lady at the front desk and I am pretty sure the lady pushing me was SPRINTING DOWN THE HALLWAY WITH ALL HER SPEEDY QUICKNESS because it was so fast and I was like, wheeeeee!!! And they laughed at me but it doesn’t matter because it is good to make people smile. Also Mom forgot to return the clear badge holder things to the security person at the door so now we are badge thieves.

But you know what? I think that is not even a fair trade for them not giving me my teeth because I think that would have been a better souvenir. I mean really. Two badges for four four teeth that have all my wisdom? No! That is not a fair trade!

Number three thing I would like to discuss. School zones.

What is up with those? Because for real, a school where there is no place for children to be crossing the road does not need to have flashy lights that make you go 25 mph in a 55 mph zone at four o’clock in the afternoon. That is madness, people. MADNESS. All the kids should have gone home by four in the afternoon. And if they have the school zone up for the detention kids and one of them gets hit in the road? Well maybe they should have thought of that before they became detention kids. Also they should have figured out how to look both ways before crossing the street by the time they’re in high school so that’s just Darwinism. Sorry folks.

Okay so number four. My mom made very proper arrangements for the ruler of a small kingdom prior to my surgery and I think all of you should take this into consideration if ever you should find yourself caring for a puffy-faced invalid who had had all her wisdom cruelly stolen from her in a morning of unconscious violence. Number one is you should buy jello and pudding the night before and then make it in cute bowls. Don’t be cheating and buying just the cups because that is lame and does not show you care. You can buy some of the cups and stuff for after you must leave the invalid to fend for herself but before that you have to make some out of the little boxy thing because that’s how you know it’s love.

Also you must buy baby pumpkins and flowers from the grocery store so the invalid’s castle/home/palace/apartment thing looks festive. Also it offsets the presence of gauze and many many bottles of pills so it will make her feel less like a geriatric shut-in and more like an empress being tended briefly in her time of need. It is also acceptable to put baby roses in her room and use an empty rum bottle as a vase because she likes rum but she can’t have any while she is healing from losing all her wisdom.

Just some things to consider. Here is an illustration:

rum flowers

festive pumpkins and such

Okay so the fifth thing I would like to discuss is how I don’t think I can be an opera star this week because this gauze is pretty cumbersome and I can’t really open my mouth wide enough to hit all those gloriously high high notes.

Like a turtle.

poor turtle

Have you ever heard a turtle hit high notes? Because I haven’t.

Anyway, it is milkshake time but don’t forget you have to eat it with a spoon and not drink anything out of a straw for at least a few days and probably a week because if you do, you will get dry socket AND DIE.

That is all!

Further word of advice to any future caretakers of post-op wisdom teeth people: don’t let them take selfies in the car on the way home from surgery. You’ll end up with pictures like this (don’t worry, I won’t publish any of the ones where I’m simultaneously trying to create as many chins as possible while showing off the blood on my teeth):

no wisdom left


oh well!


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