The price of hope

I have always believed that the human body is extremely adaptable and the spirit is nothing short of miraculous. The amount of pain and suffering that some people can go through during their lives, all the while maintaining a positive outlook and an overall enjoyment of life’s remaining good moments, is to me, an incredible and awe-inspiring mystery. I am fortunate to be in better health than probably 90% of the world’s population, and live in one of the best countries in the world. I have good friends, a job, a safe place to live, and a full fridge. And I have to remember these things most of all.

So this morning I attended what was expected to be a routine visit to the dentist. It’s usually a bit arduous because of the damaged lower quadrant and nerves of my face—areas which are very sensitive to sharp instruments—but this time I was totally thrown…

I had requested a consult with the top dentist there, but did not anticipate his diagnosis. A permanently dislocated and mal-tracking left jaw, a worsening bite, and massive third-branch trigeminal nerve damage that he says could have been prevented with better surgical techniques. He then starts talking about recent scientific advances in nerve regeneration, and tells me that orthodontic work could fix my jaw joint and the attendant pain and snapping. He tells me that if I ever have a kid, take her to see him first, before doing any wisdom tooth extraction, as the healing process must have stopped partway through my ordeal. Worst of all though… was that I was on the verge of tears… I couldn’t get control of this, so I couldn’t ask questions, I couldn’t talk to the doctor, I just nodded and blinked and prayed like heck that I wouldn’t break down completely. I couldn’t even remember my own age. Although he gave me some pamphlets and such, I didn’t hear a word he said afterwards. The hygienist was surprised and asked me why I was upset. The dentist said I could bring my mom in with me next time (WTF!? My mother!?) And I realized just then that I looked like an idiot. And I knew that nobody really, nobody at all would understand why this was a big deal to me, and for that moment I have never felt more alone in the world.

I can accept that I will have permanent pain, and permanent loss of function in my jaw. I can accept that I will never eat a carrot without my jaw locking, that I can never sleep on my right side, that I will never again feel the space between my lip and my chin, that my right lower lip will drag when I get tired, that even kissing is uncomfortable, and that talking too much will eventually hurt. I can adapt, and I have. Seven years ago, with my doctor and after numerous tests and referrals, I decided that I wouldn’t pursue a career as a woodwind player because it caused me constant jaw and facial pain. I moved to Ottawa and studied Finance. I kept on living. I counted my blessings. I am in good health and lucky even to be alive. I live in a beautiful city. But what I can’t accept is that there could be hope to “fix” this…and that there could have been hope, back when I needed it. I can’t accept that my dreams were washed away unnecessarily, that the right amount of money and time could have prevented this, that I could be living such a different life than I am now.

I can’t accept that my last year of high-school, waiting in vain for my face to heal after surgery, teaching myself to play all over again, to eat and speak carefully… never needed to happen. That it was all a mistake. Not merely a twist of fate, but an outcome that wouldn’t have happened if my family had been well-off, or even had cared; if I had only been treated by a different surgeon and orthodontist, in a different city, at a different time.

And now I am torn; should I save up for a couple of years for the treatment (10-20G?) or is it too late… does it even matter to me anymore, like it would have mattered at age 18.