I don't know why. But with my jaw pain, I only want to make pink sets. e____e FREAKY WEIRD, MAHN.

And whenever I hiccup, my left ear makes a weird noise.

e____e

BUT THANKFULLY I can wiggle both of my eyebrows. Which they weren't sure if I would be able to do after my surgery, because the surgery might have killed some of the nerves on the left side of my face. o___o


BUTANYHOW

Now I will tell you of my little adventure.

AND AYA @diminutive-dreamer I EXPECT A PRIZE, GIVEN IN STORY-FORM. WITH SOME JAYxJAMES ACTION.

Okies~ Story time.


SO.

Monday morning I woke up around 830, and took a shower with SUPERANTIBACTERIALSOAPOFCLEANLINESSSS. Because I have to be clean. And. Stuff.

I was under the impression that they would let me keep on my bra and panties, so I chose boring nude-colored stuff. Y'know. So as not to freak anyone out.

And I shaved and used lemon-scented lotion (OH, SHII. YOU RULEBREAKER, YOU.)(they told me not to use scented or colored lotion, but I don't own any non-scented lotion...so....IT'S LEMON TIME.), and got dressed. 

Removed all traces of makeup and nail polish from my body. (WHICH WAS HORRIBLE, BECAUSE BIRDY HAD JUST GIVEN ME THIS /DELICIOUS/ SHADE OF MINT GREEN NAIL POLISH, AND I HAD TO TAKE IT AAAAAALL OFFFFFFFFFF)(T^T)

And then I combed my hurr, and french-braided it. So. That. It would be out of the way and they wouldn't shave it all off like my father threatened to if I left it loose.

AND THEN I GATHERED ALL OF MY BOOKS AND CLOTHING ITEMS AND STUFFLES (because we were under the impression that I would have to stay the night in the hospital).

AND THEN WE WERE ON OUR WAYYYYYYYY.

Hopped in the car with ma mere et pere, and a bag of goodies and donuts to drop off at my brother's dorm.

SJDNFLSKDF HE WAS SO CUTE. HE WAS WAITING FOR ME, AND I JUMPED OUT OF THE CAR, AND HE PICKED ME UP AND GAVE ME THIS HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE HUG AND SWUNG ME AROUND AND SAID "I love you, Shiiiiiiii"

And Shii was all.

"DAW." TuT TEARY EYED.

So we gave him his goodies and proceeded to the hospital. 

Signed in at registration, and had a DELIGHTFUL conversation with the lady who was working with me. :3 She said I was cuuuuuuute. ~

And then we went into the Surgery wing, signed in with the UBERROBOTICSECRETARYFROMHELL (who did NOT know how to put on lipstick) and then waited for aaaaaaaaaages.

Then this ABSOLUTELY FRICKIN ADORABLE JAPANESE LADY came up and called my name to go get ready for surgery. SHE WAS SO. DAMN. CUTE. AAAAH.

So she gave me my fashionable hospital gown and rubber-soled socks, and told me to put all of my clothing in the plastic bag that she handed to me.

WHICH MEANT.

ALL.

OF MY CLOTHES.

/ALL/ OF IT.

I was a tad mortified. 

And I had even gone to all of that trouble to pick out nice, respectable underwear. *sigh*

So I got "dressed" (heh) and climbed up into the hospital bed, and burrowed under six of the thinnest blankets ever. 

And then the nurse came in and gave me hospital bracelets and papers to sign and asked me several times what my birthdate is. (apparently, it was procedure).

AND THEN.

ELENA CAME IN.

WITH HER NEEDLES OF DEATH AND TORTURE.

To give me my I.V.

e______e

Just in case anybody doesn't know, I despise (DESPIIIIISSSEEEE) needles. With a passion of fire-y lightning hatred. 

AND ELENA HAD A FRICKING /BUCKET/ OF NEEDLES AND SYRINGES AND TUBES. A BUUUUUUCKEEEEEETTTTTTTTTT.

So my dad (who is a doctor, and amazing) sat at my right side and made me look at him, and proceeded to tell me exactly WHY I was so afraid of needles. Went through my whole psychological process of needle-phobia. 

Which, although enlightening, did not stop me from yelping a little when Elena (who was a really, really sweet lady) stuck her instrument of torture and extreme sharpness into my arm and pumped me full of fluid. 

GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH.

I am such a wimp.

Surgery? EH.

I.V.? SLIFN;OSDNBF FUCK NO GET AWAY FROM ME DEMON SPAAAAAAAAAWNNNNN!!!

So that was all done and I felt like puking when I looked up and saw the dripping slkdfn fluid bag. Which led to my arm (which was wrapped up in a heated towel, supposedly to relax me). Bleck.

AND THEN I WAITED.

FOR AN HOUR.

UNTIL THE ANESTHESIOLOGIST COULD COME AND HOOK ME UP WITH HAPPY JUICE.

So we went on a field trip to the operation room, where I was met by Ken, the anesthesiologist who procured my happy juice, and my whole surgical team. 

Thereeee wasssssssss:
Dr. Doctor, my surgeon.
Ken (aforementioned anesthesiologist)
C.J., a really sweet nurse who smelled like lilacs.
Christie (my other surgeon)
aaaand Benjamin (the tech-man)

They switched me over from my fancy hospital bed onto the padded bench that served as the surgical table, and I laid there as Ken told me he was hooking me up.

THE LAST THING I REMEMBER THINKING: 

(and this is profound)

WAS:

1) Borden and Rhetoric...Borden and Rhetoric...

BUT WAS RUINED MY CHRISTIE LEANING OVER ME, AND MY REALIZING THAT SHE HAD REALLY PRETTY EYESHADOW.

@loshinoshinashitroid I failed. T^T


PART TWO: THE WAKE-UP

CONTINUED, NEXT TIME.......
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