Please, please find it in your hearts to forgive me.
Normally I would compensate for such a horrid thing by writing an extra long post, but it's gotten kinda late and I have to get up early tomorrow so it might not be that lengthy.
Now, lets get down to business.
Last week my parents and I went down to Florida on a little vacation of sorts. My dad had classes to be at most of the day so my mom and I ventured out on our own. One day we went shopping and bike riding, neither of which I had done since my surgery. Honestly, I shopped a lot before my surgery but as I've mentioned before, I live an extremely sedentary life (it disgusts even me) so I definitely wasn't prepared for bicycling. First, you know that thing they say about balance and how once you learn to ride a bike it never leaves you? It's a lie. Okay, so I'm exaggerating a bit, but I wasn't entirely sure I was going to stay upright for most of the first ten minutes. On top of that, I was breaking the law by not wearing a helmet, a decision I wasn't sure was so smart once I rode off into the sunset. Yeah right. There was no sunset on the beach or cool ocean breezes. It was sweltering, mid-day, and irritatingly not down-hill. In fact, I was glad I didn't wear a helmet, because that thing would have been too, too hot. And we were at a resort, a.k.a. they had a bike trail, so it's not like I was at risk of getting hit by a car or anything.
All right, so I've digressed a bit, but the whole point of that story was just to comment on the muscle mass I've lost lying around the house wearing out the whole "recovery" business.
I've only been to the beach once before so we obviously aren't beach people, but one night around nine o'clock my parents and I went out to the beach and waded in the water. The sand was unbelievably soft and the water was so warm and *hint, hint Mom and Dad* I REALLY LOVED IT.
Since then, nothing of importance has happened.
Yesterday my mom and I went to the mall. I've decided shopping is a good workout with all that walking and trying on clothes, so I guess as part of my "recovery" everyone should help out and take me to the mall. Yeah, I think that would be good for me.
Sometime between waking up yesterday morning and trying on jeans in dELiA's, some of the stitches in my mouth came out. I imagine it happened while I was eating lunch, and I sure am glad of that. The whole idea of stitches coming loose in my mouth has freaked me out since I had some in there the last time I had surgery. This would be a good opportunity to say thank you to my surgeon for using white stitches because they're pretty visible now that they're hanging loose around my teeth. Anyhow, after my last surgery I had to have my gums stitched up and when they came loose I took the liberty of pulling them out myself. I thought this would be fine because everyone talks about how it doesn't really hurt when the doctor pulls out stitches. Either everyone single one of these people was a liar or mouth stitches are simply different, because when I pulled it out through the roof of my mouth--yes, the roof! It was sticking through that flat spot you can feel behind your front teeth--it hurt. Not like a lasting hurt, but it burned. It reminded me of the time I got a couple of strands of hair through the piercing in my ear and had to pull it out. It burned while I was pulling on it, but it didn't last in either situation.
Speaking of piercings, I'm back to making jewelry again (I just made some nifty earrings!--ultima moda) so I'd say things are going pretty swell.
Today I went to see my oral surgeon and, honestly, the whole appointment was so short I could sum it up in one sentence, but I don't want to do that so I've rambled on about such in order to add another sentence so this one won't be a run on. Hmm, I think it might be a run on anyway. Regardless, we walked into the building and got on an elevator with two other people and it made me think of our trip to Japan last summer. When we were getting ready to leave we went to the train station with all our luggage and the four of us had to cram into this little elevator. And no, it wasn't like our extravagantly spacious American elevators. It was really tiny and I worried about the weight capacity. In fact, I'm not even sure that we could all fit on it; I'm feeling like we had to take two trips, but I don't really remember. Back to America, eleven months later, we went into the waiting room and, for the first time in this particular office, I felt extremely confident. The first two times I was there I was still malocclusion Susan, and every time since then I've been pretty swollen. But not anymore. This time Susan was sporting a huge smile, dimples (yes, I have them again!!!), and a pug nose. I felt great! So, since it's taken me this long to get to the actual consultation with Dr. MC (I like to believe he's a DJ on the weekends not only because his initials are MC and his first and last name rhyme, but also because he's pretty soft spoken and old enough to be my grandfather--not your typical DJ) you can imagine it was short and not very interesting. He came in, told me to smile, seemed genuinely upset that my lips still don't meet when relaxed, accidentally stabbed my (sensitive) stitches with a tongue depressor, and told me to come see him when my braces come off. Hopefully that's only six months away! If he calls me superstar now, I can't imagine what I'll be when my braces are gone. And since he didn't mention being careful when I eat, I'm taking this as my cue to chomp on some steak. I'm only kidding, I would never eat steak (blech!). But, I think I'm going to try to tackle gum soon. I can't take it anymore. I need minty fresh breath!
And now I'm at home writing to you. Just before this I was looking at some pictures my friend put up on Facebook that were taken before my surgery. Pre beautiful jaw line, I probably wouldn't have thought the pictures were necessarily flattering or anything, but now I can't help but think about how down right terrible they are compared to me now. I'm not getting a big head or anything, but I look AMAZING. And quite seriously, I'm not even talking about my underbite. Yes, I look rather like that ugly fish from Finding Nemo, but it's my nose. I was always painfully aware of how disgustingly perfect my parents', brother's, and sister's noses are and how lumpy mine was, but I just assumed I got some of the cruddy genetics because all the children can't be beautiful. To be honest, I probably would have considered rhinoplasty at some point in the future because I really didn't like it, but I watched a video of how they do it, so I just resigned to be forever awful. Until this surgery, that is. Apparently I had this beautiful little nose just waiting to be revealed! Dr. MC referred to my pre-surgery nose as "hooked" but "atrocious beak" is more like it.
Really, I'm not trying to be down on myself and I didn't even think I was ugly before (despite the mockery I've dealt with my entire adolescence) but now that I've seen myself with my cute nose and even jawline, I'm feeling like I may never look at a picture and think "oh...." again! Plastic surgery for everyone, I insist!
I'M KIDDING! Despite my obvious affection for myself, I'm still not an advocate for plastic surgery. At times I even feel guilty for not appreciating what God gave me, but in the end this was a medical thing too. Sometimes I like to think that now that I've got a good jawline He's taken away my perfect skin, because I'm breaking out all around my nose. I've always had great skin--never had a zit, even--but my skin is irritated something fierce. Mom likes to take the less paranoid approach and suggested that maybe some of the stuff they wrapped around me after surgery and blah-dee-blah-blah irritated it, so I looked it up online and it seems that breakout around a month after surgeries like rhinoplasty are pretty common. In other words, I'm not too worried about it since it seems like it'll go away soon and the cheap hotel soap I was using last week probably only made things worse.
Tomorrow I leave once again, this time to go see my grandparents (more shopping!) so there won't be any more posts the rest of this week. Since my tiny Japanese grandmother, who's actually not that tiny when it comes to Oriental people, needs help from someone tall, I'm told that peach picking is in my future. Not something I'm familiar with, so I'll be sure to tell you how it goes and maybe take a few pictures.
Well, look at that. I did make it pretty long... and it's almost 1 a.m. So I will bid you adieu.
In case you haven't noticed, I'm completely in love with foreign languages, so I'll be a little bit of nerd and revise that last sentence. Adieu is more of a permanent goodbye--a farewell, if you will--and even though it often seems that I'm never going to write another blog post, I promise this (God willing) isn't my last, so I'll say au revoir instead.
Current Weight: 113.7
Current Task: AP History summerwork including, but not limited to, chapter outlines, vocabulary, reviewing three historical movies, and outlining the Constitution and Declaration of Independence. Fun.