So if you read my last post, you got to hear me go on about the removal of my new teeth, after the removal of my old teeth. Sounds redundant, I know, but it makes perfect sense. Anyways, you would think that the absolute wonder I felt when I first took them off, that joyous feeling of released pressure would be enough for me to get through the next couple "swell reducing" days.
I, like a self proclaimed impatient, dumb-ass, tried to shove those damn things back into my still swollen mouth and onto my gums, that look like they've had a turn with Freddy Kreuger. Have I ever mentioned my fascination with masochism? Yes, that's me. The lazy procrastinator, that walked around for the last umpteen years with broken teeth, can't wait just a few more days for my mouth to heal, before I torture myself. Par for the course, I suppose. I seem to always work against myself. It's a gift.
Probably a good thing that I can't get them back in, too, since I have a dentist appointment this morning and they wanted me to have them out anyways. My luck, I'd get them in, get to the dentist and they wouldn't wanna come out. See, again, one more reason to let nature take it's course, let my mouth heal and then work on shoving those beauties back in. It'll all work out, I promise.
Thanks for the pep talk. I sure needed it.