1,001

Hey so I just realized I've reached 1,000 posts. Ironic that my thousandth was about Lost. Actually not that ironic - quite fitting in fact! Maybe it's ironic because this whole blog began as a pre-jaw-wiring-shut-surgery experiment and it's evolved into something else entirely...

Thanks to my regular readers - whether you come here for the personal essays, the TV commentary, the music suggestions, or because you're related to me and/or live with me and I force you to read this blog with threats of exposing your most incriminating emails/secrets - thanks to you all, a thousand times over! Here's to a thousand more!

xo
Stamos

Best Email Ever

date Fri, Oct 30, 2009 at 4:33 PM
subject Dental Implants is now following you on Twitter!

Hi, Annie Stamell.

Dental Implants (Dr_Khalifeh) is now following your tweets on Twitter.

A little information about Dental Implants:
753 followers
34 tweets
following 1965 people

You may follow Dental Implants as well by clicking on the "follow" button on their profile.You may also block Dental Implants if you don't want them to follow you.

Dental Implants may not appear in your follower list. Dental Implants may have decided to stop following you, or the account may have been suspended for a Terms of Service violation.

The Twitter Team

Please note, I have absolutely no interest in following Dental Implants in return.

Because You Seem to Have More Questions About Maxillofacial Surgery

Back, by popular demand: an inside look at the bizarre things people search for that lead them to my blog. Mostly having to do with the fun that is facial reconstructive surgery, but I find that sometimes people are into some weird shit that lands them here. (For a refresher, check out the original post here).

1. "david boreanaz jaw"
Huh. It would appear that over the course of the past year I've ramped up the posts in which I mindlessly babble about either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Bones. Not sure why you're researching "david boreanaz jaw" specifically (that's a little weird) unless maybe you're one of those dudes who gets plastic surgery to look like famous people, in which case, I'd like to refer you to that one episode of MTV's True Life where they showed all sorts of mentally insane people doing exactly that, who then had a lot of regrets that resulted in self-destructive behavior. Terrible idea.

2. "should you smoke cig while your jaw is wired shut"
Uh. No. No, you should not. And don't call them "cigs" either.

3. "john stamos shirtless"
I think I once posted a pic of his weird outtie belly button so yeah, you might find that here.

4. "when you have your jaw wired shut is it normal for you jaw to go numb"
Unfortunately, yes. I still have a small spot on my chin that doesn't have full feeling. Keep in mind if your lower jaw is being moved and/or your chin, during the surgery the doctor will be slicing through your nerves. Recovery can be quick, but super painful. And weird, if I remember correctly. All your nerves sort of regenerate and connect and stuff. Or something like that but in medical terms so it sounds a lot better. You should probably ask your surgeon about this.

5. "what is the song featured in the commercial for whip it!, but is not on the movie's sountrack"
Dude. I have no idea. I mean I wrote one post on that. I still haven't even seen the movie.

6. "jaw wired shut and adderall"
Now I know a lot about both these things, but in completely unrelated ways.

7. "what is wrong with david boreanaz's jaw?"
Again, with the David Boreanaz nonsense. Personally, I think he's really attractive. But if you have an issue with his jaw structure then why are you researching it further? This makes no sense to me.

8. "no fatties no hamsters"
God, I love that video. It's funnier every time I watch. Ew wait. If this is some weird sort of porn fetish than please just leave my blog immediately. Go. Now. And see a psychologist or something. Gross.

9. "what does it mean when you get your jaw wired shut?"
It means - wait, really? Is it not explicit? Okay... Using wire (or these days a lot of doctors use insanely strong rubber bands. I'm talking Ironman levels of strength here), your upper jaw and lower jaw are fastened together. You've also got braces, and these nasty metal attachments called "surgical hooks." Then you're put on a liquid diet for about 8 weeks, during which you will contemplate putting foods that should remain solid into a blender because you miss the taste of pizza so damn much and you rationalize that Chinese food gets all mushy and lumped together anyway. And if you're 23 and you live at home, and you don't have a job, and find yourself sleeping weird hours because of the painkillers and so you're watching a lot of Oprah (and you don't even like Oprah) and the side effects of the anesthesia result in an odd amount of peach fuzz appearing around your hairline, well then you're probably looking at some massive self esteem issues as well. But don't worry. Those are only temporary.

10. "curl up in a fetal position"
Me too, my friend. Me too.

For a second I got really excited and thought I'd been written about in the New York Times...

but that is not the case.

My blog is linked in this article about food blogs. Specifically about some blog called Jaws Wired Shut (note the plural on the Jaws part) that got a shoutout by Frank Bruni of the NYT.

For a moment, I thought--YES THIS IS IT. MY MOMENT OF GLORY. MY FIFTEEN MINUTES OF FAME.

But then I clicked on the link in the actual NYT article to discover nope, that ain't my blog--it's someone else who's been plagued by the misery of maxillofacial surgery.

And then I got depressed. And slightly embarrassed. And then I got over it. (I process emotions very quickly, you see).

But the thing is, I too offer advice about having your jaw wired shut! I do! I do! See here.

Okay New York Times. LINK THAT.

P.S. If you do land here due to that incorrect linkage, WELCOME! Explore! Say hello! I am funny sometimes. Most of the time I talk about myself. I give great music recommendations. You'll love me!

The Orthodontia Monologues

Remember that time I said I shall forever be plagued by orthodontia? (And remember that time I named my ENTIRE BLOG ABOUT THE TWO MONTHS AFTER MY JAW SURGERY WHEN I HAD TO EAT LIQUIDS AND ONLY LIQUIDS?) Well I wasn't kidding. In today's story, related to the surgery-recovery-that-shall-never-end, I started out my Monday morning at the orthodontist--yep, still have that invisalign on the lower teeth--to apparently close a minor gap that my perfectionist doctors obsess over.

Speaking of perfection, Dr. Jacobson was not pleased with the progress this morning--and I was informed by one of his female minions (why is it that both my orthodontist here and in New York are surrounded by droves of female assistants? And they're always blond and attractive, I've noticed. Actually more brunettes in New York. What's the deal with that? Note to all guys: become an orthodontist and surround yourself with fine attending women) that I might need a new kind of retainer to really get the job done.

Yes, I am 25, and yes, I have been dealing with this for the past 15 years of my life. Moving on.

Well folks, Assistant Lady said to me "The doctor might switch you to a wire retainer. Do you just want the natural color? It's pink, like your gums." I looked at Assistant Lady and said,

"HAH! If I am going to get a wire retainer with color options then I am going all out. Show me what you got!"

Next thing I know I got to choose not only a color, but a STICKER. Yes, nowadays you can put a sticker on your retainer. Naturally I chose electric blue and a sparkly seahorse (I wanted to express my love for marine biology) and previous frustration at pre-pubescent orthodontic devices quickly transformed into excitement to show off my hilarious and personalized new mouthpiece.

However, all this enthusiasm was crushed when the always-eerily serene Dr. J swung by for his 5 minute check-in, during which he spoke in code (something like "lets see the RDT. Yes and on her 16. Hmm."), asked me about my "jaw health" and shook my hand, twice. He then left. I had no idea what just happened so Assistant Lady told me that in fact they were going to stick with the invisalign and I was to come back in a few days to pick up a new model.

No electric blue sparkly seahorse retainer for me. Single tear.

And now for more headlines about that time Ann Coulter's jaw was wired shut

Thanks to 23-6 (Some of the News, Most of the Time)

MUAHAHAHA

Ha. Good luck Ann. If you need any tips I would offer to help get you through this, however, I find you to be a vile human being, and thus I shall enjoy the various, sure to be entertaining headlines, such as "Coulter's Jaw Wired Shut in time for Thanksgiving." Sweet irony.

Will I forever be plagued by orthodontia?

I was just biting into my late afternoon snack of an apple when I felt a pop in my mouth.

Oh that's right. I have a set of permanent retainers, a small wire affixed by cement to the back of my upper and bottom teeth.

That sound? That was the sound of cement ungluing. Cement I then spit into my hand.

And now I have the indescribable but annoying sensation of a partially-attached retainer whose existence I'd forgotten altogether. Anyone know a good LA-based orthodontist? This is going to be a fun weekend with some metal sticking out in my mouth.

Wonderful.

teeth pain

UGH I did not wear my retainers last night whilst sleeping and MY TEETH HURT TODAY.

GOSH.

Uhhhhh

I was just going to ask, "does anyone else have that problem that when they are chewing gum it sometimes get stuck to their permanent retainers?" But then I realized that most people don't have permanent retainers on the inside of both their upper and lower teeth, and it really wouldn't help me much in the making friends department.

Moving on.

Thoughts

1. Lakers suck
2. I realize that I never explained why I actually had my jaw wired shut (actually I didn't even have it wired shut, nowadays they use extremely tight rubber bands over the surgical hooks attached to the orthodontics for the procedure) and it was after I had maxillofacial surgery to correct a Class C underbite... or something.
3. I have a problem of staring at people driving the cars on my morning commute. Like every car I pass I will turn to stare at the driver. Creepy or just taking advantage of any people watching I can get?
4. I saw Harrison Ford again this morning and for an older dude, I am not a fan of his earring.
5. I forget what it's like to be in the hot, humid, sticky New York City weather... that's such a great thing. No complaints here.
6. The Sex and the City movie was completely overrated. They should have ended it at the TV show.
7. The best part about working in an office is the water cooler. I LOVE THE WATER COOLER. I want to get one at home. I mean, it's brilliant. For example this morning I was like, "huh, I want to drink some Emergen-C--oh cold water" and then I thought "hmm I could go for some oatmeal right now" and BAM hot water! IT'S GENIUS.
8. Thursday is such a tease...

Maxillofacial Surgery: All your questions answered, at last!

I've got this nifty thing called a Stat Counter attached to my blog that tells me some very interesting details about the people reading.

The most interesting thing about reading my stats is that I can see what people search for that leads them to the blog. Not surprisingly, the majority of searches revolve around having your jaw wired shut, and because I appear to be misleading people with my blog's title and subsequent content, I think it's time I answer some of those queries. After all, I am speaking from experience. I had my jaw wired shut.

So let's address all your surgical inquiries!

1. "kissing with my jaw wired"
This will be difficult. During the surgery, many of the nerves in your lower face will be cut, and while the regeneration (regrowth?) time is relatively quick, it does take a while and require some physical therapy (although you may never regain full feeling -- I've got a little numb spot on my chin that I sometimes stroke as though it were a beard or something). Some exercises that speed along the recuperation process are to "pucker" and "smile" which is much more difficult than you might expect. Puckering is especially tough, hence the primary obstacle in any attempt to kiss. I would not recommend trying to kiss anyone if you have your jaw wired shut. Also, anyone you might want to kiss will probably be grossed out by the fact that your face is swollen to the point where you resemble a volleyball and your cheeks are bruised a weird yellow color.

2. "can you talk with your jaw wired shut"
Somewhat. The first few days, especially when I was still in the hospital, I wrote a lot of what I wanted to say in a little notepad. The doctors don't want you to do that, because the sooner you attempt to use your facial muscles the quicker your recovery. However when you are all hopped up on drugs and feel like there's a shard of glass going through your mouth one minute, and that you are floating on a cloud of angel wings the next, talking seems like the last thing in the world you'd want to do. Later on it gets easier to talk, although not everyone can understand you. My dad found it incredibly difficult to figure out what I was saying while some of my friends had no problem (they were already used to hearing me mumble when drunk).

3. "vegan food jaw wired shut"
I recommend against. Look, when you can't open your mouth for two months and are on a liquid diet (and I am talking liquid -- the first month I couldn't even have a Jamba Juice smoothie because it was too thick) with a restriction like being vegan limiting what you can eat on top of your already impaired food intake, getting all the calories and protein you need could prove to be way too difficult, and probably unhealthy. Then again, I did live off of finely strained vegetable soups and vegetable juices, as well as a few protein shakes a day -- I'd say vegetarian is doable, but not vegan. Also, you are going to experience some crazy cravings. One night near the end of the two month liquid diet all I wanted was cheese. The solution? A giant bowl of finely whipped cheesy mashed potatoes. Delicious. It was also during this time that I discovered my deep love for pizza. There was perhaps no other food item I desired more.

4. "wired jaw smoking"
Uh, no? Are people still smoking cigarettes? You can't even use a straw so good luck trying to get a cigarette in between those lips. I am pretty sure that smoking after major reconstructive facial surgery is a very bad idea. Unless you're smoking weed. I still think you're gonna have trouble smoking anything with your mouth all jacked up.

5. "sleeping jaws wired shut"
Yeah, this sucks too. You have to sleep with a few pillows so you can stay propped up... anything to make breathing easier and help decrease the swelling. Thanks to the drugs I slept really weird hours too. This meant a lot of 4 am Oprah viewings which is okay as it's the only time I seem to be able to tolerate Oprah.

6. "dog jaw wired shut"
Huh? Why would you have your dog's jaw wired shut? This makes no sense.

7. "jaw wired avoid panic"
Ahh yes, I recall the severe panic I underwent the last days leading up to my surgery. You'll be fine. It might one of the worst experiences of your life, but it gets better. It's character building! And they give you drugs. Lots of them. All of the drugs.

8. "jaw feels heavy pops shakiness"
Get that shit checked out.

9. "products for jaw wired shut"
Hmm. Morphine, codeine, oxycodone, vicodin... there were more I don't remember the grocery list. Oh and the classic Ibuprofen of course.  All in liquid form, taken with a syringe, so you feel extra sketchy about it. They taste nasty so I mixed everything with fruit juice. Although the morphine made me feel sick (which is odd, because I always had imagined I would have a wonderful relationship with opiates) so I only had that in the hospital via IV drip. The codeine was interesting. I built a weird sleep dependency on it so it caused crazy dreams and my arms would lose feeling in the middle of the night. Very, very strange. But some interesting products, sure. Lots of products.

10. "jaw wiring laguna"
That makes no sense. I suggest redefining your search terms.

Well, for all you "jaw wired shut" searchers, I hope this helps. It's been exactly a year and a half since my surgery, but in a way feels like decades ago. So nice to have that over with. The worst part of the whole thing might the braces. Because no one wants to relive the agony of their puberty years in their twenties. I did that for three years. Terrible. But character building.

My Nintendo Love Affair

Growing up my dad had one rule regarding cable television and videogames: Not allowed. My mom buckled when I was in eighth or ninth grade and not only did we upgrade to basic cable, but my brother got a Playstation (he was in college after all). However, since I can remember, both my brother and I watched a lot of TV and played a lot of video games growing up, thanks to all our friends who didn't have parents as strict as ours. (My dad even attempted to start a Dads Against Video Games group which I think had one other member, clearly a like-minded parent with a similarly suffering child.) I remember the original Nintendo, the first Gameboy, and of course the Nintendo 64. However, the first Nintendo that was ever in my possession (if only temporary because my brother let me borrow it for a few months), was the lovely but comparatively unpopular Game Cube.

I love the Nintendo Game Cube for two reasons, and two reasons only:

1) Mario Kart Double Dash
2) The Sonic Mega Collection

My senior year of college I spent the majority of Middlebury's winter term skiing, partying, and playing these two games on the Game Cube. (I also took a post-modern dance class. It was weird.) I drove my roommates crazy with my incessant howling at the TV or constantly spoken need to "re-beat Sonic 2 by February." Ultimately, the game cube was returned to its rightful owner (my brother), and I resumed my normal life (normal being a relative term), the few months of my Sonic obsession easily forgotten.

Last year when the Wii came out I was definitely interested in getting one. I logged a few hours in the Nintendo store in Rockefeller Center trying out the in-store demo of the new Zelda. FPS (first person shooter for non-gamers... gross, does this make me a gamer or can we just credit this to my wealth of knowledge?) games like Zelda were never my favorite, and I decided that the only thing that could drive me to purchasing a Wii (besides Wii Sports which is awesome) would be a new version of Mario Kart, at which I am phenomenal. Well, in late April Nintendo released Mario Kart Wii, and after spending the last half hour or so pouring over reviews, videos and user testimonials, I will admit it--I want a Wii.

I can never purchase a Wii. Nintendo, (Mario Kart and Sonic specifically,) holds a place in my life similar to that of certain television shows on DVD. I will obsessively devote unnecessary hours of time in front of the TV in what will ultimately be an unhealthy display of my strange love affair with specific video games. If I bought a Wii, not only could I pour my life into the new Mario Kart, but then I would play all the games I loved from my brother's Game Cube. No, I cannot buy a Wii, much like I cannot purchase the entire X-Files series on DVD, or upgrade my J. Crew card to "preferred member," or even even renew my college subscription to Us Weekly--it would suck my life away.

And thus I must suffer the consequences, getting by on fabulous reviews (like this one from IGN.com) and the occasional chance to play video games at someone else's house. I even gave away my old school Nintendo pack that my brother gave me last year to pass time after my jaw surgery--Duck Hunt, Super Mario, and everything.

The good thing about all this is I save a lot of money, and my nerd level decreases somewhat. I might love video games, but I don't actually own any. (Excluding the Sega Game Gear in my storage unit in Maine. I need to dig that thing up...)

Teenage Girl Syndrome

Last night I was in bed reading a good book and enjoying a cup of tea when Roomie #1 (Ashleigh... I confuse myself with the numbers sometimes. Yes I know I only have two roommates. I am bad at math) popped her head in and we started having a little conversation about our day and what was going on and typical chick stuff, when suddenly she interrupted me to ask,

"Are you wearing your retainer right now?"

Why, yes. Yes I was. In fact, I wear my retainers every night while I sleep, and have been doing that since I was in the eighth grade and got my first pair of braces off (don't worry, it's a different set of retainers now because of the surgery braces. That would be disgusting). As I acknowledged this fact, Ashleigh then asked me what book I was reading.

Me: "Um, it's called Ranger's Apprentice... we represent the author, and have clients working on the new movie."
Ashleigh: "Is that Young Adult?"
Me: "Uh, yes. Young Adult Fantasy. But you know, it's for work. I mean my boss didn't ask me to read it but I thought I should."
Ashleigh: "Didn't you once mention that Young Adult Fantasy is your favorite genre?"
Me: "Yes, yes I did."

And sitting there in my bed, discussing my love for Young Adult Fantasy, but with a lisp due to my retainers I realized something: I seem to suffer from Teenage Girl Syndrome. My walls are a baby blue adorned with two Van Gogh paintings (Sunflowers and Jade Blossom Tree) and a multitude of photos of me with friends and family, my bedding at the moment is light pink with flowery pillows, my book case is filled with lots of books but also the three letters of my initials in bright colored fabric, my furniture is all a pristine white, and I have three stuffed animals on my bed, and I may or may not also have a "special blanket" tucked behind a pillow. (Actually, I don't know if we can call this Teenage Girl Syndrome, more like, I'm still a child.)

This was a somewhat upsetting revelation. Ashleigh made a reassuring point, which is that my current living situation doesn't lend itself easily to general decorating, and consequently our rooms become our main sources of personal expression and are therefore dorm-like. Furthermore, the centerpiece of our living room at the moment is a ping pong table, which isn't very teenage girl like at all (so I am just a frat boy at heart?) so I guess that delineates the effect of the childish femininity of my quarters.

This all leads me to conclude, that beyond my geek side, I am simply not at a place in my life (i.e. don't have enough to money) to actually furnish and decorate a room to better reflect my more mature side, and therefore my room is a perfectly put together collection of items leftover from college and my room at home. I imagine that a day will come when I will say goodbye to the girlishness and adapt a more grown-up style, that will hopefully correspond to the wads of cash I am raking in. Until then I will enjoy the Young Adult Fantasy, the stuffed animals, and especially the ping pong table.

This morning I was thinking about it a little more--don't we all have a little child in us still? Our rooms are our private, personal sanctuaries, and I am sure that there is a little something in everyone's that resembles a certain nostalgia for their childhood. Or at least there are some relics left over from the teenage years or days of college dormitories. I guess I might be one of the few still wearing retainers to bed, but I think to some degree, we all suffer from Teenage Girl Syndrome.

Soup's On

I used to associate soup with being sick. I think everyone does. When you are little and you get sick your mom gives you soup. For some it was chicken and stars, others chicken noodle, and just about everyone ate a grilled cheese with their creamy tomato. After my surgery, I associated soup with pain, suffering, and infinity. These sentiments of misery were all due to the fact that for eight weeks I was only able to eat liquid foods, which pretty much just means soup. I did gain an appreciation for the many varieties of soup one can make or find in random delis in New York. However, I recall sitting down at the dinner table, watching my family munch away on some delicious chewy meal, and then bursting into tears at the sight of yet another bowl of soup.

Currently, I associate soup with being poor. That is to say, I am poor and therefore I eat a lot of soup. I would say that on average, I eat soup for lunch anywhere from three to four days a week, and occasionally once or twice a week for dinner. For a while I was getting to eat yummy exciting lunches because my boss rarely had a lunch himself and therefore he'd buy me lunch from wherever he was ordering. That was fantastic. However over the past months I've noticed an increase in lunches as well as days he's out of the office, and therefore, soup, being perfectly inexpensive and easy to make (microwave) is my lunch du jour, almost every jour.

Whenever I first sit down with a bowl of soup I always look at it and think to myself, "yeah right, like this is actually going to fill me up." (And I speak to myself in a doubting sarcastic tone, as you might imagine). But everytime, I hear the spoon clink on the bottom of the bowl, signifying I am now a member of the clean plate club, I am, miraculously full. Soup is filling! It's the broth I guess--must be all the liquid. But even the smallest portion seems to satisfy my hunger. Even better, when 1 pm rolls around I am usually a hungry little hippo. When the boss orders lunch it often doesn't arrive until 1:45 or 2 pm, by which time I contemplating eating the frozen waffles someone left in the fridge a year ago. Two minutes in the microwave, my lunch is good to go!

I have to admit something. I might seem smart, but up until about two months ago I didn't know I could put soup in the microwave. That is to say, I didn't know that canned soup was microwaveable. I knew you couldn't microwave the can, but for some reason I always assumed that law applied to the contents within the can. Yes, I am lacking some brain cells or something. Anyways, once I made the discovery that by simply pouring the canned soup into a bowl the food could be microwaved, and thus digested, I was good to go.

So as I sit here now, blogging on my lunch break, I am eating a delicious bowl of noodles and vegetable soup. I checked my bank account this morning and realized I definitely couldn't afford ordering food today, or probably any day for the next two weeks or so. Soup is the perfect solution to my monetary problems and it's looking likely that this soup diet is going to continue for quite some time. Soup might equal poor to me, but one day, when I own half of Hollywood and am flying to my summer home in Maine on a private jet, maybe I'll ask my personal butler for a bowl of chicken noodle and have a good laugh with my staff about those days as an assistant when soup was a way of life. Then we'll all throw piles of money into the air and maybe drop bags filled with diamonds over somewhere in Kansas (because God knows there's not a whole lot in Kansas except people who love God) and then when I get to Maine I'll just buy the place and try to move it a little closer to California, maybe make Maine and California my own private estates and then I can create the wild bird preserve that I've always wanted and attract bird watchers from all across the globe and... Sorry things got a little out of hand there. Mmm, soup.

Awww

This is me, probably age 10.. I actually have no idea what age I am. Is that weird? Should I be able to detect my own age from a photograph? I should probably remember my age based on those pajamas. Actually that's not saying anything... I still sleep with three stuffed animals on my bed every night. Truth.

Anyways, my dad just emailed that photo to me, writing "I found the perfect photo for your blog. Not exactly jaw wired shut." Nope, that jaw is definitely all over the place. Flash forward ten years or so and I'm being wheeled out of an operating room with my face more swollen than a volleyball after a seven hour surgery and a jaw that's just been physically reconstructed with six pieces of titanium. Oh and one behind the chin. That was fun.

In a strange way, the recovery, although miserable, was a special time--a reversion to the days when we were little and our parents would take care of us when we were sick. Having someone dote on you when you feel like crap and can't move your face--that's definitely comforting.

I'm having one of those days, where even though LA is beautiful, and I am so happy that this is where I am and despite the occasional Devil Wears Prada moments, this is what I am doing... I miss home, I miss Maine, and I miss being a kid with no worries, and no responsibilities.

I also miss the days of wearing sweet pjs like that and it being socially acceptable (and I wonder why I'm still single...)

Author's Note

Clearly, I am not skilled in maintaining a blog. It reminds me of my attitude towards my journal... when in Europe or travelling, I write in my journal regularly, every other day or at least twice a week. Then when I am back in the US, I write sporadically, once every few months or so, or I go in little bursts of furious writing, and then nothing.

New goal: to write in this blog regularly. Additionally, I want to make this something interesting, something worth reading, something worth posting to. While I am going to keep the title as "Jaw Wired Shut" I think I might change the direction of the content... I am thinking it might become a commentary of sorts, a place where I will chronicle my new life changes and the upcoming move from the East Coast to the West Coast, the job hunt, the apartment hunt, and the new path I'm headed down.

It could be lame, it could be funny... it's sure to involve a lot of complaints about sweating, my opinions on pop culture, and definitely a lot of bold claims.

One Week Later

Wow. I can't believe my last post was from the hospital. I have a vague memory of demanding my dad take me to the visitor waiting room where there was a computer so that I could check my email, facebook, and post to the blog. Oh I do not miss those bizarre walks through the hospital corridors, holding onto the back of my gown with one hand and my IV with the other, while I shuffled away, sometimes with my Dad, sometimes with a nurse, but always drooling.

Yes, I seem to have developed a drooling problem since surgery. This would, of course, be solely due to the fact that my lower lip is partially numb and my chin is completely numb. It's never really a problem when I am in bed, but when I am up and about I start drooling again. The worst was when I was still in the hospital and I would have to go to the bathroom and would sit down and the next thing I know I am drooling all over my legs. This then created a very difficult problem because my right hand was connected to all my IVs, while the left hand, significantly less advanced (I am not at all ambidextrous) than my right, struggled to balance the tasks of stopping the drooling and reaching for toilet paper. Ahh those were the days...

Since I have been home, things have been getting better, very slowly. I am taking each day at a time, noticing minor decreases in the swelling, or that I have more energy, or I can almost sleep through the night. The crazy thing is that the surgery was seven hours long. Seven hours! Which of course took a lot out of me, in addition to all the meds I was on right after surgery (morphine included... mmm narcotics... actually it made me want to vomit all the time which is difficult when your jaw is closed shut, so I hated it). I think the first week was so difficult as my body was not only adjusting to the new bone structure and subsequent pain, but trying to recover from the intense surgery itself.

Now, it's been over a week and I have become somewhat accustomed to spending my days doing a whole lot of nothing... it's pretty boring. The hardest part is the food--getting enough calories, protein, fiber, and all the other nutrients I need through only liquids. I am drinking a lot of Slim Fast, Ensure, Carnation Instant Breakfast, Odwalla Protein drinks, Stonyfield yogurt smoothies, and of course... tons of soup. All the food commercials on TV are starting to drive me nuts! I am already fantasizing about that first morsel of solid food I get to eat. Mmmmm delicious. Until then, I am a week in, which means only seven to go. Oh. My. God.

I made it!

Real quick because I am still in the hospital... I made it! Surgery was not fun and I was under the knife from 7 am until 2:30 pm, woke up with excruciating pain and tubes coming out of me from all over the place. The jaw is not wired shut, but set in place with rubber bands which means I am drinking through a syringe (but I am still on my IVs too). My face is so swollen I am nearly unrecognizable but my brother swears I already have the signs of what will become a cute button nose.

At the moment I am questioning why I did this because it is an experience I wouldn't wish on my greatest enemy. Hopefully the swelling will go down soon, they will take off a few rubber bands, and I can be comfortable at home in bed.

Thank you everyone for the texts, messages and emails, you be hearing more from me when I am up to it...

Can anxiety result in severe back pain? All signs point to yes.

Yeah so that minor back pain I woke up with this morning has morphed into something a little more intense. I am thinking it is the result of any one of the following:

(1) I wore heels Saturday night. That is difficult for me.
(2) I was incredibly drunk Saturday night, discovered a large bruise on my right knee Sunday morning, as well as a sore ankle, both probably related to point 1, and through some deductive logic, would suggest I took a spill at some point during the aforementioned inebriation period.
(3) I toss and turn in my sleep so much that I often wake up with a rat's nest of a hair-do, and feeling like I've just had a work out equivalent to a half hour on the bike.
(4) I am nervous about the jaw surgery.
(5) I have a sweating problem. (Unrelated but I just wanted to share.)

I am guessing it is a combination of the first four. So I am off to see the chiropractor. No really. Then it is a visit to the orthodontist where I have my surgical wires and hooks installed. Doesn't that sound fun?