Two weeks ago, I started feeling really bad — almost like a flu bug but not quite: I was run down, severely dizzy, couldn’t think straight, and my head hurt a lot. For a week I battled this until I found something in the back of my mouth: a little bump that hurt when I touched it. It reminded me of previous bumps and what they were — jaw infections — so naturally I freaked out.
First, let me back up just a bit. When I was 15 (for those of you playing along at home, that would be twenty years ago), I had extensive jaw surgery to correct severe TMJ. In order to hold everything together while it healed, my surgeon put in 28 pieces of hardware: plates, wires, and screws. And unfortunately, as of right now, I’ve had two surgeries to remove the hardware from the left side of both jaws. Because they got infected and would have (most likely, not being dramatic here) killed me. And the infections were almost impossible to cure because they were both on the metal, not in tissue.
So I assumed that this was what was happening and went and saw my regular dentist to start. One week later, and we know what it isn’t: a dying nerve. My nerve is very much alive and kicking, thank you. Saw my oral surgeon — the same one who did the original surgery — on Friday and he told me that my body is rejecting the wire in the back. It’s not an infection, thank God, but it’s still bad.
This little wire and my body rejecting it has been a study in patience and strength because I am almost useless right now. I went grocery shopping with my husband and it took three times as long because for most items, I had to sit there and tease the information out of my head and try to make sense of all the options. I especially had issues with 4 types of cheese. I almost lost my balance several times, and we had to backtrack a lot because oops, I forgot something from a previous aisle. Normally I can go through it almost by memory and remember everything I need off a specific aisle but not today. I feel foggy and incoherent. Obviously, I’m coherent enough to write this, but I don’t feel like it. It’s not a pleasant feeling at all.
So the verdict was most definitely to remove the offending wire. I could have had it done on Friday except I had to get approvals and a pre-authorization ahead of time so I have to wait. Potentially for a while, but I will be lighting a fire under my primary doc’s people’s butts if it goes to next Friday. I have a life, and I can’t live it like this. This blog is the first thing I’ve written in a week. That’s not me, folks — I push through everything. Except this.
It’s a simple procedure — numb me up and take it out. I’m a bit worried about the needle — last time, it was at least 6 inches long — but once I’m numb, I’ll be fine. And the recovery probably won’t be as difficult as the last two surgeries. I’m optimistic that I’ll be back to myself in no time. It’s just the getting there that’s tough.
Still, I can’t even imagine what my life would be like if I hadn’t had the original surgery. My dad never had it and he suffers daily with migraines and his jaw locking in place. They told me I’d lose all my teeth by the age of 20 if I didn’t have it done. Scary thought, huh? And even with going on 3 additional surgeries under my belt, I’d still do it again if I had to. The surgery didn’t just correct my misaligned jaws — it corrected the contours of my face and made me look better. It allowed me to keep my teeth. And, most of all, it made me strong enough to deal with future health issues, medical tests, and ultimately, fibromyalgia and intractable vertigo. It made me see, at the tender of 15, that sometimes things aren’t pleasant but you gotta push on through. Be courageous and brave. Fight for what you need. Never give up. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I find myself comparing everything that came after it and have found mostly everything not as bad. It made me tough and resilient. It made me a warrior that can endure anything.
So yes, I’m facing another surgery. But it won’t be bad because I’m strong. And that’s all that matters now. In the meantime, I’ll be counting the days until I’m me again.