As so many fellow ortho-bloggers have shared, Orthognathic Surgery was the recommendation of the day whilst still a teenager 15 years ago, and there would be no straight teeth for me without it. The initial records were taken, impacted wisdom teeth & an impacted canine were all removed, the surgeon consulted and the brakes applied. You see, at this time all I cared about was how different I looked than the people around me. I know now that it's called a class III malocclusion, but at the time I couldn't care less what it was called. I looked funny -'nough said! I had no trouble eating, talking was a sport I excelled in and pain was not an issue. Why, in the name of all that is holy, would one's parents put their child through such a huge procedure for the sake of vanity? Some wish their parents had gone for it back in the day....I am not one of those people. Perhaps I'll share about this later.
Fast forward to the more recent past and safety-pinning the bottom of one's pants is no longer De rigour. Humour me by bearing with a few rather mundane-sounding examples :The way I eat, which has always been normal to me, pushes my lower jaw even farther forward than would be naturally comfortable but it's the only way to make molars meet in able to chew. The joys of being an adult and the everyday stresses which accompany this usher in the dreaded clench and grind. A routine visit to the dentist ends the ability to open my mouth for a couple of weeks, a complete lock down. Oh right. They are also all accompanied by a fair amount of discomfort and I don't normally consider myself a pansy in this department. Boo-hoo for me. Who doesn't have variations on this theme? Find a power animal & take up yoga, you might suggest. Don't go to the dentist, Duh! Just stop eating - poof! Just a couple silly examples, but they now have the power to turn me into a useless, drug-seeking puddle who always has to ask herself, "How many days of no sleep have I endured? Am I sufficiently incapacitated to warrant treating myself to that Percocet hiding in the back of my cupboard?" Ibuprofen used to be my best friend, but apparently living on the stuff can lead to developing an allergy to the stuff. Look! I'm a human hive with a tongue the size of a Mack truck! Drat the luck. I'm self-aware enough to know I have an addictive personality, hence the strict narcotic rationing.
Enter the doctors, dentists, orthodontists, and TMJ guys. I sought out a cross section of care-givers for 1st 2nd & 3rd opinions, options available other than surgery, to have each and every one of them eventually point me back to the suggestion of origin-Orthognathic Surgery. Bummer. I won't suggest for a moment that this decision is easy for anyone regardless of what stage of life they may be in. This option scares the bejeebies out of me on so many levels. I'm not exactly old but I'm not a youngster anymore either. I've got a farm to run, a husband and kids to look after, School and Church responsibilities. How can we justify spending all that money on braces and a surgeon for me, when there's never enough to go around? What if I turn into a whining wussy who can't talk (or think) about anything but her mouth? What if all the other kids make fun of me?! What if my peers think I'm just doing this because I'm *gasp* VAIN - the horror!
Enter my wise and caring husband, without whom I really don't think I could rationally make this decision. His advise:
- Throw out any concerns that involve other people or organizations. If they can't at least be sensitive and flexible you don't want them around anyways.
- Look at your quality of life now...it sucks. And it's only going to get worse.
- You asked for opinions from those that should know, and this is what they are all telling you. Listen to them.
- I'm here to help you whether you handle it stalwart as a soldier or bawling like a baby.
- You have people more than happy to help with kids and responsibilities...but you have to let them.
- It took you years to get to this point & you tell no one the pain you put up with, you can't expect others to just "get it".
- Ummm...that's what payment plans are for and you're worth it. One day at a time.
He's a good man! Decision made. My big Sis makes a heck of a sounding board, too.
It's actually scary how quickly everything fell into place once proclaiming the final "Bring it on and let's Git' er done!". I decided on my childhood orthodontist, Dr. D., whom I trust and has the advantage of already knowing my past history. Seeing how much my records have changed from the '90's to today was rather ominous of what I could look forward to. He has another ortho working in the office now, Dr.K. who is a completely different style but also left me with a good impression. (A built in 2nd opinion on all things tooth-placement related is rather nice, too!) I saw them the same week I called and was back for my round two initial records appointment 2 weeks after that. I had already chosen the surgeon I wanted, pending how I felt about him in person. A little inside help from one of the other doc's I consulted with got me in to see Dr. C (oral surgeon) the following week, November 8. Made it a bit hairy for the Ortho's to get everything together on time, but wow, they were awesome! The drive to the surgeon's office was rather nerve-wracking. I just kept praying,"Let me love him or hate him, I don't care which. I just want a sense of surety that this is the guy for me..or not!" The ball was rolling so fast I wasn't sure if it was a sign that this really was meant to be, or if I was racing into a grievous error. I had to remind myself that the hemming and hawing had already ran it's years-long course, that I had already made this decision. The rest is just details. I loved Dr. C. We'll see how I like driving back-and-forth to Toronto.
Okay, we're at today. I have a mouth almost full of metal as everything but molars where joined by wire on Nov 28. I'm no longer drowning on my own saliva or sporting a mouth shredded by the shrapnel within. Dr. K even called me at home to see how I was making out, with which I was very impressed. Spacers go in January 14, followed by banding on the 21st. Then we can say the show is officially on the road. My dentist pulled out my lower 4th tooth (to match up with the missing upper canine) two weeks ago, and honestly, it was this removal that gave me the most grief. It could be having a healthy tooth pulled while still getting used to braces was just a bit much, but it just felt wrong. I am now a strong believer that one is meant to keep their teeth firmly embedded in one's jaws thank-you-very-much.
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