Yes, I’m high again.

The last time I was this high I couldn’t laugh at the funniest jokes. My insides were shaking but the mind refused to communicate. Maybe that’s what they call catatonia.

No, I’m not depressed. Yes, I had a tooth extracted yesterday. Just like before, I was ordered to take Amoxicillin and Mefenamic Acid three times a day for one week to lessen the swelling and minimize the massive pain that my goddamn tooth was shooting out.

For days on end I couldn’t eat properly. Add that to my hyperacidity problems and you’ve got a diet in the making. Which was sort of horrible, since I can’t not eat when everyone’s joyfully chowing down. It’s sheer torture.

I nearly cried, too, because of the stupid pain that my tooth was causing. Nearly, because I find it difficult to cry under most circumstances. Even pain cannot make me cry, which is weird because I cried when I watched Simba’s father get trampled in a stampede. Un-fucking-explainable.

So I finally got it out yesterday, after the dentist mistakenly cleaned my teeth. Apparently he had no idea I wanted an extraction, and he did a general cleaning instead. But he was nice enough to pull my tooth out afterwards, after my entire mouth had gone numb with three shots of anaesthesia.

Now I’m fine. I’ve been eating tons (as much as my hyperacidity allows) and I’m happy. Plus I’m mandated to take my drugs for three more days. I might go beyond the three days required, though, just to stay this relaxed. Seriously. It’s a bit weird, but taking this cocktail of meds has brought me to new sedative lows. I get bouts of excitement and lots of bouncing, but then I suddenly shut up and feel the need to ignore the rest of the world.

I didn’t get into any fights on the MRT, too, thanks to the relaxing effects of my doctor’s prescription. I like this new sedate me.

Unfortunately, one side effect is that I’m constantly hearing Helter Skelter in my head for no good reason. Which isn’t entirely a bad thing, since I love this song, but it gets a little disconcerting when Paul won’t stop singing inside your head.

I’ll supplant Paul with a bit of Jim this time, just because the latter’s a bit more apt in this particular situation:

You know that it would be untrue/You know that I would be a liar/If I was to say to you/Girl we couldn’t get much…higheeeeer

Yeah.

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 29th, 2008 at 10:31 am and is filed under music, nonsense, pain. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.