Wise Talk.

Smart man, Plato. One thing he forgot to mention was that wise men can talk, but if they get their wisdom teeth out, they can be as foolish as all get out.

Yes, today I did something I hoped all my teenage life never to do, but I guess I've moved onto adult matters; I had my two wisdom teeth removed. (Technically, my dentist ordered them to be removed, despite my disapproval, and my father paid for it, so the only contribution I provided to this adult decision was my presence.)

I have seen footage of post-anesthesia chatter from friends, and seen it in person with family, and vowed that I would not be loopy. I would NOT. The surgery went fine (despite several IV attempts, finally switching to the left arm (fourth time is the charm, these days), coming around a little too early... I remember thinking that I hadn't gone under yet (when I'd really been under for a half-hour), and could feel stuff going on in my mouth that was NOT normal, and trying to tell them that obviously, I was not under yet, and then hearing someone tell me to "just relax" in my headphones (the Beatles, if you're curious, was the CD of choice) and then poof, out like a light again. That anesthesia stuff is nuts.

I remember someone taking the eye protection off (when did that get there?) and feeling sleepy, but I was surprised! I felt totally level-headed. The nurse grabbed my mom (I think), and then I got into a wheel chair and assisted in to our van behind the building. But I totally knew what was going on, everywhere. I even told the nurse that my van was right there, coming around the corner. (Because obviously, there could have been a lot of confusion with all the parked cars nearby.)

My mom and I went on our way, and I pulled out my camera, because I knew beforehand I would be a little crazy and I wanted to see for myself later, but in all honesty, I totally thought I was being perfectly normal. And I was ... you can see for yourself:

And I really did feel fine, until just a few moments later when the anesthesia got to me and my insides were "all over my pants!", poorly aimed into a plastic sack that unfortunately had a hole in it. My poor mother was torn from trying to help me, drive, and laugh. But I got my Frosty and all was well, so no worries after that. (For the moment. It will be an interesting few days.)

And how funny it is that perspective and state of mind COMPLETELY changes everything. It makes me wonder how often I think I am doing a good, right thing, or in the right way, but someone from outside my personal opinion/influence can see that I am headed in the wrong direction, or could be doing things in a different, more effective way. My mom didn't criticize me for missing the bag, even though she started to tell me to use a different one that didn't have a hole. I wasn't in a state to really aim very well, and though I heard her advice to use the other, sturdier bag, I stuck with my original plan (which was a fast plan concocted... your stomach isn't often generous with decision-making) and she helped me the best that she could. She probably would have loved to not scrub the car seat after I crawled into bed, but she did, and then continued onward to being the best nurse ever. (warm casserole puree for lunch, anyone?)

That is true wisdom. Caring for others, offering advice when we can tell it will be truly helpful despite being afraid of retaliation, and being continually supportive even if advice is not heeded or nothing changes. Or maybe it is motherly love. Or maybe it is both. (But it definitely isn't wisdom teeth.)

I hope to be more wise and more like my mom as my days continue to pass, because right now, I don't particularly favor scrubbing car seats, literally or figuratively.


MTC Countdown: 27 Days


Word of the Day: bushwhack  \ BOOSH-hwak \ , verb; 


1. To defeat, especially by surprise or in an underhanded way.
2 (other common, boring, not nearly as applicable definitions)