Of Being Drunk (or High?)

So I visited the dentist on both the 25th and the 26th.  The 25th was exactly what I had feared it to be.  I was given another dry socket in an attempt to drain whatever infection had ravaged my cheek.  The whole process took about an hour, and I once again left the office a crying mess.

The night of the 25th I was in so much pain that I ended up taking 3 percosets.  Part of me worried about an overdose, but the other part of me was so knotted up in pain that I didn't care.  Besides, considering how clean-cut I've always been, I doubted a 3rd pill would do much to tempt me into a prescription drug addiction. 

I think that 3rd pill brought me as close as I'll ever get to being drunk.  I did NOT like that feeling at all.  Everything felt incredibly slow and wobbly, and I was an emotional wreck.  That being said, I was completely in my mind and fully recall everything that happened.  I was even aware of my slurred speech and that I was repeating things or stalling on a story because the words took so long getting from my brain to my tongue.  I didn't feel pain, though! 

I called Mary to come down as I'd been having a really tough time of it.  My constant trips back and forth to the doctor were wearing on John as he's also been busy with work, Vince and films.  I hate that feeling of helplessness.  I wasn't able to drive anywhere, and I certainly didn't trust myself to watch over Vincent (God forbid I try to hold him and drop him, or fall asleep or any other number of things).  The sitter was able to come to watch him that night, so that was a relief.

However, I was incredulous at my inability to sleep.  Even having taken the three pills, not having slept the night before due to anxiety, and the lack of strength from not eating properly in a week... even with all that going on, I could not sleep.  So it was good of Mary to come and let me vent all my frustrations to her.  I drank some soup with her and felt better as the effects of the drugs wore off.  Even though my face was beginning to hurt again, I was relieved that I wasn't so "foggy."

I cannot figure out why people would willingly do that to themselves through either alcohol or medicine.  I hated that feeling... even being in an aware state!  To slip further into an unconscious state where you can't be held accountable for your actions / speech... and for what?  The "buzz" of feeling like you're stuck in a bowl of jello - everything around you slightly blurry from the wobble of your surroundings? 

Shoot - I will never understand that.

Anyway, when I went back today, I was told the large lump on the side of my face was an infected hematoma that will likely take several weeks to "dissolve" on its own.  I get to continue taking the antibiotics (which, BTW, are a huge pain in the butt as I need to take them six hours apart, meaning I inevitably miss the dose I need around 2 or 3 in the morning), but I probably won't need nearly as much pain medicine as they'll leave my teeth (and sockets) alone for a while.  Progress!

Maybe I can start working on building back those 6 lbs I lost this week... LoL.

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