So I just got back from the dentist yesterday and I thought I'd give a little update on how I'm doing. I decided to go out for a good meal with the bae before the surgery. Y'know. Before I can't actually eat any real food for the next few weeks. We went to this really nice Japanese restaurant at the new Robinsons building which was kiiinda expensive but worth the splurge. We talked about books and the general crappiness of modern-day fiction books while munching on gyoza and sipping on genmai tea. I ordered for myself black truffle ramen and seven-spice vinegar gyoza because I was intent on being a full-on hedonist. I regretted ordering the latter because it was practically drowning in chili oil and I was on fire. I wish in a sexy way but no. At least the waitress took pity and gave me a jug of ice water.
Aaaaand as usual I'm a horrible blogger. I ate the food before I even remembered to take a picture.
He was defending asian (or rather, chinese) novels while I was kinda dissing them for being rather repetitive and...emo. I think "angsty" would be a nicer word but "emo" suits. The discussion kinda fell through since he was more familiar with...obscure books that I've never even heard of while I was referring to more well-known authors like Murakami, Banana Yoshimoto, Kazuo Ishiguro, Yan Lianke..etc. It's not like they're bad. They're usually very well-written. I do have several that I love (will post an updated list soon). I just get tired of the repetitiveness of the ideas. Mistakes of the past. Memories. How we can't get over shit. The futility of existence and the monotony of our daily lives. Innate human darkness and how complicated we are. Grief. Death. Blah blah blah. It gets so old. For me anyways. I know that other kinds of literature - be it American or European do repeat these kinda themes but I feel like I see it more in Asian literature than in any other genre. I also feel like the way it's written in is kinda bland. Like, sometimes I can't really distinguish one author from another because their styles have significant overlaps. I love Rawi Hage, Walter Moers and Salman Rushdie because they their stories are very richly woven with and intricate and their style is just...THERE.
Anyway, we had some time before my appointment so we headed to Watsons because I wanted to buy a heavy-duty gel-based moisturizer/essence thing (under the influence of Chizu Saeki). I also need lotion so I'll be buying that soon. I'm trying to take better care of my skin nowadays because I think I should be loving myself better and treating it the way it ought to be treated. Then we headed to Kinokuniya where we spent most of our time arguing about the manga/anime industry because he was defending Sword Art Online, to my great disgust. Apparently, according to him, the novel was rushed and that was why it was shitty and the anime cut out some parts and the creator of SAO is now trying to make up for it by writing a separate SAO series which he claims is "much better" (didn't bother remembering the title). I was almost irritated enough to just storm off there and then because I didn't feel like any of those dumb excuses were justified. If he hadn't eventually admitted that yeah, it was kinda a crappy reason I might have done so.
I swear 80% of our normal conversations are arguments, I don't understand how our relationship even works. Somehow it does.
On the up side, he is attempting to read Walter Moers' books so that we connect better. Which is very endearing. <3 In return I'm downloading Minecraft once I get a laptop so that I can actually understand what the fuck he's talking about.
Where was I. Ah yes. So then we went to the clinic. My dentist was this young and really frank dude called Arthur who proceeded to brief me and assure me that I wouldn't feel pain. Though he stressed that "pain and pressure are 2 different things". Since it was a local anaesthesia, I would be fully conscious so he was going to inform me of every single step he was taking throughout the procedure so that I don't start freaking out if he suddenly does something. Which I both appreciate and don't.
"I will now be drilling into your teeth, pretty vigorously. This will be slightly uncomfortable"
"Just gonna straight up dig here to loosen the tooth. Am using quite a bit of force but everything's cool don't worry"
"I am now giving you an extra shot of anaesthesia here deep in the back of the gums. This might sting a little" (it stung a fuck lot)
"I will now be cracking your teeth into two."
"Ah. This tooth is kinda big and I can't pull it out of the incision I made. I'll have to crack it into three."
The suturing was almost just as traumatic.
He had to administer a higher dosage of anaesthesia, probably because I was freaking out. Can't help my visceral fear of the human body. I CAN'T HELP IT OKAY? AM A WIMP. Take me skydiving any day. The thing about local anaesthesia is that you can't feel pain, but you can feel EVERYTHING ELSE. The digging, the yanking, the drilling and..the...CRACKING. Like cracking a coconut. Or walnut.
The rest of the evening was a nightmare. Apart from feeling and looking like a retard because one side of my face was all puffed up, I couldn't speak properly because of the gauze in my mouth. I felt like I've been over botox-ed. The anaesthetics wore of pretty quickly even though he gave me an additional shot of it just before I left and the pain was downright agonizing. Also I was bleeding really heavily, which worried Arthur a little. Probably something to do with my Thalassaemia. Thinner blood and longer duration to clot. No mood for food. I was just tasting and swallowing my blood the entire night whcih pretty much killed my appetite and it was well past 3am before I got any decent sleep.
To think that I'm going to have to go for round #2, 2 weeks later for the OTHER side of my face.
SOB
Aaaaand as usual I'm a horrible blogger. I ate the food before I even remembered to take a picture.
He was defending asian (or rather, chinese) novels while I was kinda dissing them for being rather repetitive and...emo. I think "angsty" would be a nicer word but "emo" suits. The discussion kinda fell through since he was more familiar with...obscure books that I've never even heard of while I was referring to more well-known authors like Murakami, Banana Yoshimoto, Kazuo Ishiguro, Yan Lianke..etc. It's not like they're bad. They're usually very well-written. I do have several that I love (will post an updated list soon). I just get tired of the repetitiveness of the ideas. Mistakes of the past. Memories. How we can't get over shit. The futility of existence and the monotony of our daily lives. Innate human darkness and how complicated we are. Grief. Death. Blah blah blah. It gets so old. For me anyways. I know that other kinds of literature - be it American or European do repeat these kinda themes but I feel like I see it more in Asian literature than in any other genre. I also feel like the way it's written in is kinda bland. Like, sometimes I can't really distinguish one author from another because their styles have significant overlaps. I love Rawi Hage, Walter Moers and Salman Rushdie because they their stories are very richly woven with and intricate and their style is just...THERE.
Anyway, we had some time before my appointment so we headed to Watsons because I wanted to buy a heavy-duty gel-based moisturizer/essence thing (under the influence of Chizu Saeki). I also need lotion so I'll be buying that soon. I'm trying to take better care of my skin nowadays because I think I should be loving myself better and treating it the way it ought to be treated. Then we headed to Kinokuniya where we spent most of our time arguing about the manga/anime industry because he was defending Sword Art Online, to my great disgust. Apparently, according to him, the novel was rushed and that was why it was shitty and the anime cut out some parts and the creator of SAO is now trying to make up for it by writing a separate SAO series which he claims is "much better" (didn't bother remembering the title). I was almost irritated enough to just storm off there and then because I didn't feel like any of those dumb excuses were justified. If he hadn't eventually admitted that yeah, it was kinda a crappy reason I might have done so.
I swear 80% of our normal conversations are arguments, I don't understand how our relationship even works. Somehow it does.
On the up side, he is attempting to read Walter Moers' books so that we connect better. Which is very endearing. <3 In return I'm downloading Minecraft once I get a laptop so that I can actually understand what the fuck he's talking about.
Where was I. Ah yes. So then we went to the clinic. My dentist was this young and really frank dude called Arthur who proceeded to brief me and assure me that I wouldn't feel pain. Though he stressed that "pain and pressure are 2 different things". Since it was a local anaesthesia, I would be fully conscious so he was going to inform me of every single step he was taking throughout the procedure so that I don't start freaking out if he suddenly does something. Which I both appreciate and don't.
"I will now be drilling into your teeth, pretty vigorously. This will be slightly uncomfortable"
"Just gonna straight up dig here to loosen the tooth. Am using quite a bit of force but everything's cool don't worry"
"I am now giving you an extra shot of anaesthesia here deep in the back of the gums. This might sting a little" (it stung a fuck lot)
"I will now be cracking your teeth into two."
"Ah. This tooth is kinda big and I can't pull it out of the incision I made. I'll have to crack it into three."
The suturing was almost just as traumatic.
He had to administer a higher dosage of anaesthesia, probably because I was freaking out. Can't help my visceral fear of the human body. I CAN'T HELP IT OKAY? AM A WIMP. Take me skydiving any day. The thing about local anaesthesia is that you can't feel pain, but you can feel EVERYTHING ELSE. The digging, the yanking, the drilling and..the...CRACKING. Like cracking a coconut. Or walnut.
The rest of the evening was a nightmare. Apart from feeling and looking like a retard because one side of my face was all puffed up, I couldn't speak properly because of the gauze in my mouth. I felt like I've been over botox-ed. The anaesthetics wore of pretty quickly even though he gave me an additional shot of it just before I left and the pain was downright agonizing. Also I was bleeding really heavily, which worried Arthur a little. Probably something to do with my Thalassaemia. Thinner blood and longer duration to clot. No mood for food. I was just tasting and swallowing my blood the entire night whcih pretty much killed my appetite and it was well past 3am before I got any decent sleep.
To think that I'm going to have to go for round #2, 2 weeks later for the OTHER side of my face.
SOB
