In a mere 5 hours I will be saying goodbye to my children, getting in the car and driving the 40 minutes to the hospital for a elective surgery on my jaw. It will be three years on July 12 that I ventured in to
Dr. Harvey's office to get my braces put on my teeth, something I had dreamed about for my whole finger sucking life and then some. His words to me were we can fix your over jet one of two ways - pull some teeth and bring the uppers back to try to meet where your lowers are or, even better, pull more teeth on top and bottom, pull everything back and then have surgery to extend your underdeveloped jaw. Well, I figured since we were going that far we might as well do the whole ball of wax. Surgery it was. I would be done with everything in 2.5 years and it would all be a distant memory as I looked in the mirror at my new perfect smile. The surgery would change my profile some but all for the better in the end.
That was in 2005, right after Will was born. He has never known me but for the metal in my mouth. Two years into this process when the spaces from my extracted teeth were not budging I asked if it would impede my progress too much to have a baby. Family comes first - the surgery would wait and in the middle of it all Emerson Claire was born. I wasn't really ready for surgery at that time anyway.
Finally, shortly before Emmy arrived it was time to try to schedule surgery. Dr. Harvey said it would be no problem to have it right after she was born during my maternity leave if that was all the time I could take off from work. But after consulting my wise advisors and remembering how uncomfortable I was after the surgery on my parotid gland right after Will was born (milk leaking everywhere and they wouldn't let me put a bra on because of the stinking IV) I opted to have it over my two week winter break from school. Dr. Preisler, my oral surgeon and the most gentle man I have ever known save my father and husband, said they do all kinds of surgery over the break because so many people are home from school so that would be no problem. That was in June. When they decided to try to schedule me in November they had already booked the one day of the month he did surgery near the holiday break. I could get in December 2nd. My loving boss at work pooh-poohed that idea since I had already missed 6 weeks of teaching time due to maternity leave so summer it would have to be. It seemed that the jaw surgery gods were giving me some sort of sign.
So the time has come. Finally. And some of the reality has set in. This simple surgery is not so very simple after all. They will make three cuts on both sides of my jaw, slide it down 3-4mm bracket the openings with small plates and screw it back together with tiny titanium screws. I will be on a liquid diet for 2 weeks and soft foods for the next 8 - no chewing allowed until the bone fills in. I will have some numbness and swelling for up to a year after surgery as the movement of the jaw stretches part of the facial nerve that runs right through the middle of it. I will not be wired shut as some others I have met and read about which will be nice. I will be able to brush my teeth and eat pudding and other things that I can get in my mouth. All would seem to be falling into place. Oh, but I can't care for my children during these 8 weeks lest they hit me in the mouth accidentally and knock something out of place. If you have ever met my son you will understand how real of a problem this is. He rarely, if ever, just sits. It is a daily occurance that someone gets hit about the head and mouth with a rogue elbow or noggin. Not intentionally most of the time but a real threat to the success of my healing.
But lying in bed sleeplessly, I start to think about what others in my family are currently going through. My cousin is waiting for new lungs. He has been for almost the whole time I have had braces on my teeth. If surgery becomes a reality for him it will be even more life and death than just living is now. He definately did not choose to have to go under the knife. And then there is his wonderful mom, my mom's sister, my aunt whose rare sinus cancer seems to have reappeared in her lungs resulting in emergency surgery to remove the mass and imminent treatment to kill any other little spots the evil menace has decided to leave in her system. No choice there either. And then there is my aunt in California who has been attacked by Alzheimers and forced to reside in a nursing home. No surgery but complete upheaval of her very existance. It seems the saga of my family goes on and on as it does in every family, most stories I never hear. But then enter me, the one who is choosing to have surgery. Not necessarily a life threatening surgery by any means but one that opens the possiblity of complications and infection that comes with any surgical invasion. And what if I never wake up to see my beautiful babies and sweet loving husband again. What am I doing?!?
To be honest I'm not so sure anymore but it comes down to this: at this point my bottom teeth will be pulled from my jaw before they meet the top ones, the surfaces of my teeth will slowly erode as my bite worsens over time and the minor ache in my jaw when I eat licorice or chew steak will increase. There is a real need for the surgery now if there wasn't exactly in the beginning. And I know in my logical brain that it will go fine and I will see my babies Wednesday when they come home from school and they will know me and love me no matter what. And some day soon I will be able to bite through a summer sausage sandwich without holding on to the meat. I'm scared and excited and a little bit crazy. But we always knew that.
Wednesday, the day after surgery.
Today, one week after surgery.
before braces/surgery - July 2005
profile July 2005
