I am longing for my ex-boyfriend, George the Morphine Dispenser.
Sure, he was a fair weather boyfriend who was only there for me during the high-flying good times in the hospital, and then he dumped me and never called again, but I don't care. If I knew where to find him right now, I'd beg for him to take me back and I wouldn't even care if he cheated on me with all the other jaw surgery patients.
I'm not usually the kind of gal who likes to share her men, but in this case, I'd make an exception.
You see, I just came back from a physiotherapy session. Not just any physiotherapy session, but one with the Grand Pouba of Jaw Physiotherapy. The Man with Thumbs of Steel. The Jaw Master.
This dude is in such high demand that the only appointment I could get with him was 8:30 at night. And even then, I didn't actually get in to see him until 9:30.
Now, my regular physiotherapist is pretty hard core. She often makes me gasp and wince in pain, to which she responds, "That doesn't hurt. You just think it does" and continues merrily dislocating my jaw from the rest of my head.
But this dude, this dude took it to a whole new level. He used his hands to inflict more pain than this torture device ever could.
The pain was so intense, I had tears in my eyes, I was crying out, and I actually started doing Lamaze breathing to try and get through. Or at least I think it was Lamaze breathing. I'm not sure what I was doing. All I know is that it hurt. A lot.
Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. Medieval, really. I still can't believe it.
But the thing is, I went in there tonight only being able to open my mouth 30 mm, and I left with 36 mm to my name. My surgeon told me that if I could open 40 mm or more, he would be a happy camper. So half an hour of pain (and lord knows how I'll feel for the next few days) brought me to the point where I can almost open my mouth like a normal person.
I guess what they say really is true: No pain, no gain.
And in other news, I'm really glad I didn't get rid of those leftover painkillers from my surgery. I don't think I've been this high since the last time George and I made out.
And in unrelated news: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.