5,270,400 seconds (61 Days)

Yesterday was the 61st day, the 2 month marker of the big surgery. One more month before I hit the 3 month mark where "95% of my healing will be done." Although, I'm not sure how this plate removal is going to throw things off.

Anyway, here's what I remember about yesterday:

• 7:30am wake up and shower
• 8am arrive at Dr. Voorhees's office
• 8:05am go back to the room
• 8:10 Dr. Voorhees puts in my IV and tells me I'll start to feel relaxed soon and I say "In theory" and Dr. Voorhees laughs and says "In practice." I start to feel kind of sleepy
• Some short time after that: I check with Dr. Voorhees to make sure they're not going to leave me in the room alone to get used to the drugs, because that's what the other office did when they extracted my teeth last year, they left me alone in a room, hooked up to NO2, and I had a panic attack. I don't remember him answering this question. 
• 10am I'm in the recovery room and have the extreme urge to throw up. I'm handed a blue plastic barf bag and proceed to throw up the contents of my stomach, which wasn't much, because when they're going to IV sedate you, there are eating rules. There was a guy next to me recovering from what I assume was wisdom teeth extraction, and his wife was sitting next to him, and they had a baby, which would not stop making noise. Coming down from drugs is kind of like a migraine. You just want everything dark and quiet so you can go to sleep. Well, at least they didn't protest when I asked Jared to turn off the TV.
• 10:15am we head home, trusty vomit bag in hand
• 10:30am we arrive home, I make it back to my green chair (oh, how I love/hate you green chair!), and I vomit up some more. I think I got a little car sick on top of the drug stuff. I then take a little nap. 
• 12pm I wake up, then wake Jared to ask if he's hungry - this is just my polite way of asking Jared to get or make me some food. What I really want is some tortilla soup from Santa Rita, where Jared works. He reluctantly agrees to go up there after dropping this bombshell on me: no chewing for a week! What?! That wasn't part of the deal. But, Dr. Voorhees told Jared that it's to let the stitches to their thing.
• 1pm Jared returns with soup but insists on blending it because of the no chewing thing (their tortilla soup is kinda chunky). I protest, because it looks like somebody already ate it and then puked it up in my bowl, but then eat it and it still tastes good.
• 1:30pm I fall back asleep after taking the one and only Trammadol that I've had to take for this part. 
• 4:30pm I wake up and spend the rest of the night resting and watching TV. 

And like I said, I've only had to take the one pain pill. It really doesn't hurt at all. Although, I'm not moving my mouth hardly at all, so that's probably helping. And yesterday when we went to HEB, it kind of started pounding, so I think a lot of movement (and therefore increased heart rate) isn't too good for it. It actually looks a lot worse than it is, it just looks like I'm walking around with a golf ball in my cheek. Maybe I can pretend that I'm chewing tobacco or gum, which makes me fit in well with all the World Series craziness.