Well, I’m alive and but not exactly kicking.

I’ve spent the majority of the week lying on the couch while a) holding ice packs and heating pads up to my face, and b) asking when I could take more painkillers. I watched the occasional movie, read a little, and contemplated which body parts could have been removed instead of my teeth so I wouldn’t have to give up eating food. Let me tell you, it’s not easy trying to eat when you can only open your mouth 2.5 centimeters. The latest issue I’ve had to deal with is not smiling or laughing. If anyone does anything remotely funny, I have to hold my face in my hands and try to laugh because it makes my face feel like it’s simultaneously burning and being pulled apart AND THAT DOESN’T FEEL GOOD. Apparently my family thinks I look funny when I do this. They always start laughing more and run to get the camera. They are so sympathetic to my plight.

I did do something productive during my medicine induced less-pain-than-normal moments: I hand sewed the little birdie on this onesie for baby Eliana at church.