So last week I read a post by one of my favorite bloggers, Sebastian about gym class. Now I can go on for literally days about my gym class horrors and what I would classify as child abuse. I mean, really. But one particular story stands out and that would be 10th grade. In 9th grade I got out of a lot of stuff because I was hanging with a bunch of girls who, like me, were really unathletic. Like, I could run- only if a dog was chasing me. And organized sports like baseball and shit? Yah, I don't understand what I'm supposed to do so I'll just stand and be cute in the field. As long as I pass I really don't care.
In 10th grade I got stuck in the gym class from hell which consisted of boys (all ages) who were all on school sports and the girls who were ubber athletic. So clearly, I didn't fit in. And we were all led by a bitch of a teacher, Mrs. Fernjack.
So it's spring and we're outside playing organized soccer. Somehow I got assigned a position that not only required me to run (a lot) but required me to kick the ball in an organized fashion to someone on my team. And I got stationed 3 feet from the goalie. Chucky Wuolu (pronounced woo-loo) who I think, played soccer for the school. He was supposed to GENTLY tap the ball to me, I run and kick at the same time. Got it.
Yeah, well that asshole kicked AS HARD AS HE COULD, at my face. So instead of ducking, or running away like a normal person...I stand there, and hold my left hand up thinking that will save me. Yah...no.
I then feel really warm on my face and think no big. Until I realized my white shirt is covered in blood and Mrs. Fernjack is screaming at me to run. I don't know about you, but unless I've just been shot with a gun, I'm not running anywhere while bleeding. I attempt to walk off the field to the nurse's office but am told to stop being a baby. As I'm gushing blood. Thank god a senior cheerleader had some brains (shocker) and takes me to the office. The nurse then calls my mom to say I have a "minor nose bleed". Yeah, I'm gushing blood. I'm not vomiting blood because I've swallowed some. When my mom gets me she is all like, "Holy shit! What happened?!" so I go through the story and I go home. I can't use my left hand which is weird and my face hurts.
My step dad takes me to the doctor where it is determined while I didn't break my hand I've damanged it. So I have a weird bump on there where it healed wrong. And my nose? Broken. THANKFULLY it was a clean head on break so my nose didn't get bent or weird looking.
Chucky Wuolu? Nothing happened to him. Ass.
But let's face forward 4 years, shall we? I wake up at the end of my first year in college with pain in my mouth like I have never had before. I look in the mirror and am like, "Holy fuck!!!" because my face has tripled in size on side. I go to the dentist and I get two root canals. And if you knew me in real life you'll know I am a freak about teeth cleanliness and the thought of getting root canals when I haven't had cavities in years? Not ok.
Fast forward the entire summer. After 4 attempts at root canals, my face keeps puffing up. I'm a freak. I go to an oral surgeon. Well, it seems that my nose breaking incident is coming back. Parts of nose bone broke off into my sinus, causing infection which was now so huge that I was risking blindness if it ruptured. I had surgery less than a week later on my sinus. Basically they went through my mouth (I have a scar on the roof of my mouth and along my gum line) to clean out my sinus, remove the roots of my teeth, replace those with metal rods and close off my sinus completely. It was painful. To say the least. I had a horrible recovery, I have residual pain in my sinus and my teeth have never been the same.
So about 2 years ago I had a toothache in one of those teeth that had the rods. Which I shouldn't since hello- no roots, nothing above it to store yucky stuff. Turns out one of my molars had to be pulled since the wrong rods were used. I went to my dentist who couldn't do it. He referred me to a root canal specialist. Who couldn't pull the tooth OR the rods. I'm talking feet on the chair pulling with both arms until I felt all of my teeth were going to come out. So then I had to get knocked out completely since we discovered that novacaine and all the other "caines" don't work on me anymore which...fabulous.
So the tooth got pulled. The pain afterwards? Tremendous. Fast forward to a month ago. My dentist tells me that the other tooth? Needs a crown otherwise it gets pulled. Oh. My. God. So today? I go to get a crown. And guess what doesn't work? Novacaine. So about 10 minutes into the procedure the pain is getting worse, and worse, and worse until I break the plastic cover of my iPod. Broke it from squeezing, folks. I managed to get through it and as you can imagine, my face hurts so bad.
Matt is refusing to run to Target to get me super duper strength anything to help. He got me a shake that is so thick I can't suck it. (Wow, that sounded horrible). It's like all I want, is someone to get me heat and ice packs. Someone to rub my feet so I can ignore the pain in my face. And god dammit, if someone could just kick Chucky Wuolu's ass from here until the next decade I would love it. Because Chucky? I hate you. I hate you for being such a fucking short, pudgy asshole bastard son of a bitch. Because of him and his fucking punk ass I am continuing to deal with the aftermath. My dentist loves it as I see he's driving a Lexus SUV but dang. I'd like to have no more problems. Seriously, I feel like finding black market Percocet or something. But in the meantime, I'm going to read blogs and catch up on email. I need more email buddies. ;)