Wow, I can’t believe it’s here. Today marks my 20th year since I first stepped foot at LAX airport. So many years have gone by. So many lessons learned. It sure feels like a milestone. I feel I should write something but I did that in 2020.
The recovery from my recent oral surgery is going well, I think. The swelling had gone down quite a bit over the weekend. My face is no longer lopsided and my speech is no longer garbled and slurred. It’s hard to talk when one can only open one side of one’s mouth.
I think my throat is a little better too though there is still a little bruising on my neck. I guess it’s one of the risks of being intubated during a surgery.
My diet is pretty much back to normal. I just have to cut everything into tiny pieces to fit into my mouth since my left jaw is still fairly tight so I can’t open my mouth all the way.
Two things made me angry during the past week.
- On the day of my surgery, as soon as I was awake enough to know where I was and what was happening, I checked my phone. One missed call, from my cousin. Mom called him for me when we got home and found out he got into an accident – a 3-car pileup, he was sandwiched in between. He’s alright, no injuries, just a few dents and scratches on the car. What angered me was I was the first person he called, the person to call when in trouble especially when he’s contradicted everything I’ve said in the past.
- Someone has been spreading rumors in the family. They thought my surgery was in-patient and that I needed to stay at the hospital for a few days. A rumor was spread about me having no more teeth to eat anything. Someone thought my teeth extractions were on my existing teeth, when in fact, the extractions were on the teeth laying sideways inside my gums. Basically, on the teeth that never came. This frustrated me because they made me sound like I’m a toothless person.