The Good, The Bad and the Vicodin Itchies

The Good: I’ve finally, after many weeks of anticipation, moved into my new apartment–and as I must have mentioned at least once before, it’s fan-fricking-tastic. Tonight is the third night I’ve spent here, and so far there’s a 2 for 3 record of guitars being played on the back porch, which ain’t too shabby if I do say so myself (I must also say that I have an 0 for 2 record of being one of the guitar players, though my mother’s vintage guitar has been lovingly played both times). Tomorrow’s project, aside from laundry, is to get my room into a more lived-in sort of arrangement, as right now there are still a heap of empty plastic boxes in one corner, and there’s a bunch of stuff sort of strewn atop surfaces–things which have been unearthed from previous storage and have yet to find homes. My books are coming home on Thursday from their epic stay in my father’s shed–they’ve been sorely missed, and I’m anticipating their arrival with untempered joy. My roommates, too, are looking forward to my books–my room’s previous tenant had quite a few, and she took most of them with her.

The Bad: I’ve spent most of the week in fluctuation between extreme agony and numb dopeyness, due to the dental issues I’ve had recently–infected wisdom tooth and broken filling in desperate need of a root canal, concurrently. Not fun. It seems the wisdom has chilled out for the time being, and I haven’t had to take the painkillers to sleep for two nights–in fact, I haven’t taken one at all today. Unfortunately, the other tooth has grown more sensitive, to the point that I cannot chew at all on that side of my mouth for fear that it might break off entirely (not to mention the excruciating dagger-in-the-jaw pains that accompany biting down. I cannot entirely close my mouth. It’s ridiculous. I’m a dental invalid. So next week, and perhaps for weeks to come, I’ll be eating oatmeal and Jell-o and tapioca pudding. I went ahead and bought the tapioca today, just so I’d be ready–only I didn’t feel confident in biting the little tapioca bubbles like I usually do because I didn’t want to lose a &^%$#! tooth over tapioca. Not Swiss Miss, anyway.

The Vicodin Itchies: Beginning last week and continuing until yesterday, I’ve felt like I had a mild rash on my arms and legs (and sometimes my face and chest), but when I looked, there were no bumps or spots or hives, or any other sign of irritation. I have not been exposed to anyone who was likely to have given me Hippie Bugs of any sort, and I had taken both of the prescriptions I’m on before. I was at a loss, flummoxed. And itchy–but not maddeningly so. In fact the itch was very minor, like the feeling you get if you go too long before taking a shower after being in salt water. Then on Monday night when I was at the beach with my friends, I took a Vicodin and a friend commented, “Vicodin always makes me itchy.” Aha! I thought. It is the drugs! So I don’t have Hippie Bugs, I’ve got a lesser version of Coke Bugs. Go figure.

I haven’t had any Vicodin today, so I shouldn’t be itchy, but of course I went and got myself a minor sunburn this afternoon, so I’m itchy anyway. And in a day or two, the skin will peel off of my shoulders, and maybe my face. Right about when I get my tooth drilled to bits and they send me home with more Vicodin.

I’m a mess, really. But I’ve got a great apartment, and it’ll still be here long after my wisdom teeth and the Vicodin Itchies (and all of my money) are gone. I’ll clink my fucking non-alcoholic Dental-Invalid beer to that.

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~ by saltgirlspeaks on 7 July, 2007.

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