Books and Crooks

Today was a better day. I wake up in better spirits and less swollen. After breakfast, I decide to do something calm. My choice is to read. My English teacher has dropped off a book for me to red while I am away. It is a very quick and enjoyable read. It is a book about the relationship about a daughter and her mother written entirely in the form of notes left on their fridge. When I am finished, I decide to begin to do some work on my Hamlet homework.
All the reading has put me in a maternal mood. I am suddenly especially appreciative of all that my mother and my grandmother do for me. I decide it is time for a chick flick, so I choose Definitely, Maybe which is a very sweet story about a divorced father telling his young daughter how he met her mother. My mother and grandmother watch it with me, and we have some girl bonding time. Having my younger sister Maya there would have made it perfect, but she went to the Art and Soul festival, which I had been hoping to attend. She was very nice about it, and even brought me back a souvenir.
After the movie is over, I get a call from my singing teacher Libby. I am so touched that she called me. She is a person who makes my confidence about my abilities as a vocalist skyrocket, and is just a good person. We have a nice chat and I am already anticipating my next lesson. My good mod turns in to stress when my sister announces that she is bringing three of her friends to our house for a sleepover. About thirty minutes later, I get a text from Forrest asking if he can come visit me. I warn him of my sister’s sleepover and give him the option of coming over tomorrow when there would not be four crazy pre-teens, but since Monday is Labor Day, he has made plans and cannot do it tonight. So he plans to come over despite the other company.
Forrest arrives with a stuffed moose and some tea from his recent trip to Canada. After chatting a while, my mom decides she would like to rent a movie. While she runs over to blockbuster, Maya and her friends put on an impromptu concert for us. Maya and her friend Sam, both quite skilled at guitar and mandolin begin to play a song that I have never heard, but both of the girls know. Maya and Sam both write songs, and I cannot tell if these are songs that were made famous by an obscure indie band or an original composition. Then Maya’s other two guest begin to dance in an odd yet slightly seductive manner. I find it quite amusing and enjoy the performance thoroughly, but I can feel Forrest squirming uncomfortably beside me. My mom arrives and the concert ends.
My mom has chosen The Bank Job, which is based on the real story of a group of thieves who robbed a bank of millions from the safety deposit box in the basement of the bank. It was not as bloody and violent as I was expecting, but it was certainly not a G-rated romantic comedy. By the end of the movie, Forrest, my mother and I are all practically asleep. Forrest leaves and we all tumble into bed. I realize that tomorrow is the first day of September, which means the new season of my favorite t.v show, Gossip Girl, premieres. I fall asleep in anticipation of the return of Blair, Serena, Dan, Jenny, Nate, and of course, Chuck Bass.

It was fun while it lasted...

I wake up the next day at 12:45, something I have not done in a long time. Unfortunately, I quickly discovered I have slept in an awkward postion my left side, which has caused my face to swell larger than my right side. After a breakfast of non-gelatin Jello and cranberry juice, my mom helps me brush my teeth for the first time since Thursday morning. The actual bushing itself is uncomfortable, but makes my mouth feel better, fresher and cleaner. My brother has his friend Spencer and his twin sister Madison over for play-date. The twins’ mother, who happens to be my boss at the Orinda Park Pool Canteen, tells me sympathetic stories of her own troubles with her jaw. I am grateful that she was able to do most of the talking, as I am more sore today, and talking had become increasingly difficult.
I don’t do much today. I am feeling so lethargic and swollen that I cannot bring myself to read any Hamlet. I can’t even fall asleep. After a while, the twins leave and a family friend comes over to dinner. My mom has been very sensible about the food she makes for dinner, and has prepared hummus and eggplant dip with a super soft and tasty flat bread. After dinner it is time for pain meds. I have not needed to use the Tylenol with codeine since my pain level has been relatively low, but I am in enough discomfort to request some. It’s not particularly tasty, but I had help chasing it down. I think Mary Poppins should have changed the lyrics to “Just a spoonful of homemade chocolate cupcake mashed with cream cheese frosting makes the Tylenol with codeine go down” although her lyrics tend to roll off the tongue more easily.
Despite my cupcake, I am not feeling very well from the codeine, so I decide to turn on a movie. I was hoping my Blockbuster order of the first season of Flight of the Conchords would arrive today, but I must settle for Smart People starring Ellen Page of Juno fame. I think Ellen is very talented, and she is about my height, a hard quality to find in today’s media. It is a very cute movie, but by the end I am trying not to vomit. I quickly tie my ice bags around my face, and fall asleep, being careful not to sleep on my side. I fall asleep hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

Go Obama, Go!

I awake the next morning in good spirits. My mother wakes me and tells me that I look like a "Who" from the Jim Carrey version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" which explains the name of this blog. She also told me that she has Tivo'd the end of the Democratic Convention, and that there were some incredible speeches made that night. I change my clothes and head upstairs. I walk upstairs, and wonder what breakfast will be like. Eating has become quite difficult, because the palate expansion has numbed my upper lip and teeth. I notice my grandmother is eating a peach. Peaches are probably my favorite things to eat in the entire world, but I cannot chew anything. My grandmother, who has noticed me staring longingly at the peach on her plate, comes up with the brilliant idea of mashing up a peach so it is easier to eat. She mashes up another of the peaches my mom bought from the farmer's market, and I promptly devour the entire thing. I do not thing I have ever eaten anything so delicious. When I finish eating, I warm up the Tivo and flip on the recorded Democratic convention. I watch Al Gore's speech, and immediately disagree with the common belief that he is not a good speaker. His speech is very focused and clear, and I love that he is trying to raise awareness about Global Warming. We really are killing our planet and it is nice to see that somebody actually cares besides me. The we get to Obama. Ohhhhhhhhhhh Obama! The man could turn any pessimist into an optimist. His speech is so inspiring that it convinced me that Obama could save the world. I had struggled between Hillary and Obama, as I thought they were both respectable and experienced candidates. Obama's speech convinces me that I made the right choice. I know that one man cannot fix every problem in America magically overnight, but I am convinced that Obama, can at least help America get back on its feet and headed back in the right direction. When the speech is over, I realize I have not looked in the mirror. When I do, I nearly have a heart attack. My face is in fact one that you might find in Whoville. My cheeks are so puffed out and swollen, I could have been mistaken for a chipmunk about to hibernate. There are two positives though. The first is that my upper lip in now full enough to balance out my lower lip, and I wonder (with some false hope) if maybe my oral surgeon injected some restlyane without my knowledge. The second is that I have no bruising, which is a miracle considering how fair I am...thanks Western European heritage. My mother has decided to document my face as it swells and deflates. After taking our daily photograph, I turn on the movie I didn't finish last night. I turn on my laptop, which has recently returned from the dead, and I find a message from my friend Julia, who is also at home recovering from a back injury. Throughout the day, we have a lovely conversation about our recoveries, and our love for Obama. I remain lazy for most of the day, but several things happen in between: I receive a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from my mom's sister and her family in Arizona. I promptly place them on my bedside table and my room immediately brightens up. My nose also begins to bleed, which is expected to continue for a few days. This is difficult at first, because not only am I not allowed to blow my nose for six weeks, but I am also prohibited from sneezing through my nose, and must do so throught my nose. I quickly work around clearing my nose without blowing my nose or using my finger. Thank God for saline spray! My good day is topped off the tradition my father and I have of watching The Soup every Friday night. It is a show that basically pokes fun at all the ridiculously idiotic stuff on television, formerly known as Talk Soup with Greg Kinnear. I suggest everybody watch the The Soup Friday nights at 10 on E! Fun Fact: I am apparently related to the host, Joel McHale. According to my grandmother (whose maiden name is McHale) all McHales are related. Go figure.

Back to my usual tricks...

So I am woken by my grandmother at about 5:30 in the morning. She has graciously agreed come and stay with me while I am recovering (about ten days). Normally, I never eat breakfast, but for some reason I am particularly hungry this morning, which is ironic since I am not allowed to eat or drink. I decide to avoid the kitchen like the plague. We (me, my grandma and my mother) pack our things and head towards Alameda Hospital, a change from Kaiser Oakland, my usual romping grounds.
We arrive around 6:00 and check in. We are directed to the waiting rooms, where I am promptly instructed to strip naked and put on a gown. I feel extremely uncomfortable without any underwear, but it is necessary that I am completely bare, save my gown. I spend about an hour having my blood pressure and temperature talking and meeting with the various doctors and anesthesiologists. I am forced to repeat my allergies and essentially my entire medical history. By the end, I never want to hear the words "amoxicillin" again. Finally at about 7:30, things get rolling. My I.V is inserted, and I am wheeled down to the O.R.
I am greeted by yet another doctor who not only wants to know my allergies but has apparently mistaken my fused spine for paraplegia. After clearing everything up I am wheeled into the O.R. I am lifted from my gurney on to the operating table. A mask is promptly put on to my face. I asked it was the anesthesia, to which the nurse replied that it was only oxygen. "It's like cooking. You gotta mix different ingredients and then you taste it to see if it needs more garlic." The last thing I remember hearing is "We're adding the garlic now" and I was out. Waking up from surgery is really the hardest part of the surgery. I am stuck in recovery room one all by myself, and incredibly groggy and I don't remember much of this time period except for the doctors talking about the temperature I had during the surgery. 45 minutes later I am finally awake enough to be moved in another recovery room where I am finally allowed to see my family. My mother observes that I am not swollen or bruised very much. I now have two ice bags on the side of my face. I have a lucky stuffed German Shepherd creatively named "Wolfy"(I was eight, ok?) I always take into my surgeries. During my surgery, the doctors put a hospital bracelet and a surgical mask on him, which my mother finds absolutely hysterical. I was also allowed to keep my upper widom teeth, but the bottom teeth were removed in pieces, so they were too broken to save. After drinking some water, having my I.V out, and choking down some Tylenol with codeine (even though I am hardly sore), I drag myself into a wheelchair, and am wheeled to the car, and we head home.
The codeine is making me a little nauseous, and I am extremeley tired, so after sending a quick text to a very concerned friend of mine, I fall asleep and drift in and out of sleep, waking occasionally to adjust my ice, eat some applesauce, or drink some water, which has become a task since I am not allowed to use a straw. Around 8, I feel awake enough to check my email and various social networking sites. All the well wishes and concerned friends of mine make me feel incredibly loved and appriciated, and I wonder what I have done to deserve such love. I begin to watch "What Happens In Vegas" but I get too tired to finish it, and I fall asleep halfway through the movie, glad that the hardest part of the coming weeks has come to an end.