mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

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every time i swallow hard my jaw cracks & i worry that i'm permenantly damaging my (semi-)pretty face. i've started thinking of surgery as this event where i go unconscious & wake up with stitches in weird places- see, i have the problem of knowing too much about medicine to trust doctors, without having the practical experiance to know that human bodies are kind of resiliant & stuff. especially since for 65 million years old i am pretty young. dr. kwan, who seemed awfully reliable, told me the plastic surgeon guy was pretty much an expert. & since dr. edemeka udo recomended me, i'm trying to raise my confidence levels. i just have this innate drive not to be cut, you know?

jenny has been astonishing. with a face of broken bones & blood vessels, its hard to be eloquent, so i just keep saying how much i love her. she's the sexiest nurse you could ever have. its weird- all i did was get beaten up- i don't know why she keeps saying i'm being so good. though this is totally a great example of how, as she put it, boys (esp. me) can be huge babies & also big heroes. like, my mudpie face only gets the occasional silent wince from me, but taking the tape off the bandage from my iv turned me into the jumpiest motherfucker imaginable.

i take 500mg of vicodin every 4 hours or so. i take a motrim whenever i feel like it- it keeps the swelling down, & dr. kwan acted like that was a good idea. i try to take a vitamin every day. i've been drinking raspberry-cranberry juice. i drink a can of ensure for breakfast. i tried to get down some cream of rice, but my face wasn't enjoying that. since i don't move around so much, i think my involuntary fasting is going to be alright. when we watched old school last night, i had to wear an eyepatch, since my swollen left eye is getting better & keeps inching open just a little, disorientating me.

the emts in the ambulence we're okay, for joking around & all, & seemed technically competent. but the one guy kept trying to act like he knew more than he did- he kept repeating something i'd said about my collapsed sinuses & pointing to the wrong half of the image on the cat scan. but thats not a real problem; i mean, it just means he talks too much. which like- i talk an awfully lot (when my face works right, i mean).

jenny says she first knew that i was sort of alright when i was dissecting that motives of my attackers from an anthropological standpoint- that they'd attempted to damage my face in order to mark their territory, making me undesirable to their female, or something like that. way to go team brain!
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