Yes, yes, they took the teeth out, but I'm sure they left the wisdom in.

So I had my two lower wisdom teeth out on Monday. Fun way to spend spring break, I know. The surgery itself wasn't so bad. The worst part was waiting for the doctor to find a vein in my arm—painful. The best part was the nitrous oxide they gave me to relax. I talked to someone last week who said he'd purposely fought the sleepiness, just to see how long he could resist it, but I found myself grasping for unconsciousness. The sooner I could be blissfully unaware, the better. I'd never actually been put completely under before, and I was happy to find that it really was all over in an instant.

Afterwards, of course, was a different story. The worst part of that was regaining sensation in my mouth, reclaiming that rubbery, foreign skin as my own in tingly increments. The best part was the new frozen yogurt place we found in San Jacinto. I didn't realize how accustomed I am to living in a city where there's one of everything within five miles of anywhere. I'd despaired of finding decent frozen yogurt after we tried a disappointing Golden Spoon in Wildomar that morning, but on the way to pick up Angelica from MSJC, we spotted a promising little place. Free samples, self-serve stations, toppings galore, paying by the ounce—that's good yogurt.

I've been on a mushy, liquidy diet since then. I haven't completely despaired yet, though the homemade wheat crackers, barley soup, and barbecued chicken that have wafted out of our kitchen in the last twenty-four hours have probably elicited as much saliva from me as the numb lower jaw did. I've been getting creative. As Calvin S. Brown said in Music and Literature, "A strict formal pattern is likely to be hindrance to a minor craftsman, but a stimulation to genius." Brown may have been speaking of Bach's adherence to the fugue form, but I feel like his sentiment has application here as well.

Post-teeth extraction cream of wheat

• 1 cup water
• splash of vanilla extract
• dash of salt
• poof of cocoa powder
• 3 tbsp. hot wheat cereal
• sugar to taste
  
  Boil water, vanilla, salt, and cocoa powder. Slowly stir in wheat and simmer, stirring, until thickened, about two minutes. Sprinkle sugar on top and serve with milk.

Better-than-canned tomato soup

• 2 cups water
• glop of roasted garlic tomato sauce
• plop of juice from jar of olives
• garlic salt
  
  Boil, then serve with cold water to cool it sufficiently for a sensitive mouth.

Peanut butter and mashed bananas have also been figuring prominently in my meals. I can't wait until I can chew again. I sat down to eat my cream of wheat with this month's National Geographic this morning, and found nothing less than a feature on wisdom teeth to accompany me. According to the article, most doctors recommend a "wait and see" approach. Mine didn't—even though my referral was only for the bottom two, he would have taken out all four. As there was no need, we decided against it. I have a feeling none of them would have ever given me trouble, and the uppers least of all.

Since I haven't been able to do much else, I've been immersed in homework. I pounded out an 1100-word essay on the intersection between music and literature (hence the Brown quote above), wrote a response to the first half of Ovid's Metamorphoses, and slogged through some Spanish. I got my hair trimmed and my eyebrows done today, and I'd be looking pretty good if it weren't for the swollen cheeks. Thank goodness for vicodin . . .