Ain't love grand!!

My husband had his wisdom teeth pulled out today and I feel so bad for him.
I came into work at noon so I could be with him at the dentist. He was pretty nervous about it, but I think it is more of the fact that he had never had any major dental or even medical stuff done versus someone who has had it since childhood.
He's a pretty strong guy, very independent and I think the thought of being "helpless and in pain" was not something he wanted to deal with.
It was only an hour-long procedure though and I was able to pick up his meds while he was in surgery, so it went pretty fast. He was pretty comical though.
The dental assistant told him no carbonated/caffeinated drinks or alcohol for a week. He was still pretty out of it and tried to remind her Labor Day was coming up, but she still said "no", it was funny to see him so bummed ... and the thing is that he really doesn't drink often, because he knows he can get called in any time, but we were think of inviting some friends over to barbecue.
On the ride home he kept laughing to himself and talking, but it was pretty hard to distinguish what he was saying. He was very hungry since he couldn't eat before the procedure so he kept asking if he could eat.
After taking the pain meds he kept saying he wanted to go to work which was not really possible in his condition. After a very long speech about how even though he was injured, he had a responsibility, I took him the the FTP where the other officers were so he could pass along his computer "stick" so they would have whatever information it was he thought they needed.
On the way home he wanted to stop by clothing and sales to buy a new uniform so he could have the patches put on it. I didn't think it was a good idea, but we eventually went.
Once inside we got the uniform and socks he needed but when we went to get the patches and flag he needed the medicine kicked in and he lost his energy really fast.
So he went to the car after making me say I would get the rest of what he needed.
One of the Soldiers in the battalion, stopped me in line and asked what did I do to him (which is pretty funny if you knew that I was about 5-feet talk and he is nearly 6.
After assuring me that he had made it to the car, I finished my purchase and headed to the car, where he readily admitted that the meds had kicked his butt.
After getting him back home and on the sofa in the recliner, he fell asleep, which is where he was when I left for work.
I called a few hours later and he said that he had regained the feeling in his mouth and jaw and was in quite some pain. I told him it was time to take some more medicine anyway and promised to get some ice cream, Jell-O and pudding on the way home.
Ain't love grand!!