For some reason, lately whenever I pop my retainer out of my mouth, it makes me gag.
Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let the gagging jokes commence.
But this morning, I suddenly realized just why that is.
I have the feeling back in my mouth! Whoo hoo. (I guess. It was sort of nice not to have a gag reflex for a while. And yes, those gagging jokes can re-commence.)
Can you believe it has been a year since my jaw surgery? I can't. That means it's also been a year since I was crazy enough to let Patrick guest blog. Which also means it's been a year since I was almost divorced.
Kidding aside, I think that if it weren't for my very bad experience in the hospital that night, I wouldn't really think much about it now. But I really thought I was going to die that night. And I'm not really sure that I'm completely over it.
Only the two closest people in my life know how I really felt that night. I don't want to seem too overly dramatic to anyone else. Well, except a handful of blog readers, of course.
Even though the surgery was probably much safer than giving birth, the experience itself was far worse. And considering how long it took me to stop having flashbacks of my son's delivery, I guess it is no wonder that I still can't get the night of my surgery out of my mind.
And this leads me to a question. How many of you have ever really and truly thought you were going to die?
I wonder how many people come close to death before they finally die. And I wonder just how much the experience might change a person.
I'm going to have to go back and read my blog from the last year, and see if I really have changed in any fundamental way.
In other news, I had a very involved dream about Rob Byrnes last night.
Someone send me some porn.