My Surgeon Dumped Me & I'm Going to Canada, Maybe

One way I find helpful to cope, is to make light of a difficult situation and I enjoy poking fun at myself. Thankfully Freud is not my therapist and can’t analyze me for the next decade on that. I know sometimes it’s healthy and other times it’s me trying to not show how scared I am. With my gap, I needed a nickname for it because I believe when something has a name, it’s less scary…I’m looking at you Voldemort! So, I became Tow Mater from Cars.

By September of 2018, I started the Invisalign and by December/January, my gap was gone. I have nothing positive to say about the expander. I loathed every single second it was in my mouth. I was told that it may be able to come off in December. It did not. I would fantasize about roping Gary or someone into snipping it off for me. I need more enabling people in my life.

Finally, at 9am on Thursday, February 28^th, 2019, it was removed! The roof of my mouth never felt to weird before in all my life! The expander was cemented in my mouth for 260 days. I was free! My ortho told me that I’d be ready for surgery around July or August. I promptly emailed my surgeons office to inquire about pre-surgery appts, scheduling, getting the surgery approved with my insurance, etc.

Two weeks go by, not unusual for a doctor’s office, and I get a reply. At the time, Gary and I were in Belize. It was a last-minute trip as we had Southwest flights to use before they expired and the dollar travels well there.

Side note: GO TO BELIZE! HOLY CANOLI! GO, GO, GO! We slept in the jungle, saw ancient Mayan ruins, explored a cave where the Mayan’s made human sacrifices, snorkeled with sharks and stingrays and coral reefs, and so much more!

On our last evening in Belize, I checked my email while Gary showered from our adventures that day.

Finally! An email from the surgical scheduler. 

“We regret to inform you that Dr. L will no longer be able to perform your surgery and you will need to find another surgeon.”

What? I’m in disbelief. This can’t be happening. It doesn’t make sense. I tried to enjoy the rest of the trip and not panic. So that lasted a whopping 18 hours, until I got to the airport. An hour waiting for our flight home? Perfect time to start calling and figure this out. The email had to be some mistake. But alas, it wasn't. Dr. L’s assistant is no longer able to stand for the 6 hours that my surgery would last, therefore Dr. L is unable to operate without his assistant. I’m provided with a referral, which of course I called from Belize. “They only see children? Well, everything in my mouth is in the same spot, just a bit larger, can’t they still…no? Ok, who do you recommend” I finally get an appt with a maxillofacial surgeon in Philly for the end of April. This is surgeon #4. 

To cut to the chase, I fought back tears and frustration when I got into the car after that appointment as surgeon #4 didn’t think insurance would pay for the surgery. But who needed him, I already had an appointment scheduled with a maxillofacial surgeon at Hopkins, surgeon #5.

For an appointment with a surgeon, I typically drag my parents with me. I do this for a few reasons. 1) they’re offer 2) nice to have company on a drive to NJ or Philly 3) a LOT of information is discussed in these 30-45 minute appts so an extra set of ears and note taker is exceptionally helpful and 4) sometimes I need someone to take over for me verbally when my emotions take me over mentally. The appointment with surgeon #5 was one of those moments.

When I meet with a doctor, I bring my folder, which was recently upgraded to a binder. I have all my records, tests, scans etc., whatever I can to help a new doctor get to know me and my case. Their first question to me is a general one asking why I’m meeting with them at which point I hand them a typed timeline of my history with all prevalent information, dates and doctors. Most appear impressed and thankful that I make their job a bit easier. Dr. #5 was not. When I use medical terms, such as maxillary or malocclusion, most doctors, I assume, see me as the motivated and informed patient that I am. Dr. #5 did not.

Dr. #5 seemed to question everything I said. Why I was seeing him mid-way through this journey? Who told me I had this and this diagnosis? And the icing on the cake, “you’re so pretty now. What if you don’t like your face after the surgery”. I nearly lost my shit. How dare he. How. Dare. He. It took so much energy to politely reply, “I’d really like to be able to breathe”. Gary came with me for this appointment and saw my anger bubbling, I’m grateful he did most of the talking afterwards.

I didn’t make it into the elevator before the tears came. My eyes were rather swollen that evening. I wrote my dentist, Dr. D, over a page long email that night with all the conflicting information Dr. #5 gave me. She wrote back with a 2-page reply answering all my questions and concerns with facts that Dr. #5 was privy to, had he gotten up to look at the scans or read over the letter my dentist wrote directly to him.

After that, Dr. D had me come in for 2 intensive appointments with her. For one appointment, I got a new CBCT scan (panoramic view of my sinuses, teeth, jaws, etc.) and digital impressions of my teeth. The next appointment, we went over every questionnaire available. We talked about my sleep, my physical health, my mental health, etc.  

Side note: I got my nose pierced in March, something I have wanted for such a long time. A nose piercing takes a more time than most other piercings to heal, 4-6 months. Well for the new CBCT scans, I needed to take it out and then put it back in, only 6 weeks after I got it pierced. I googled some videos and decided to practice the Friday prior to the appointment. I knew I had the corkscrew kind, stud, 90-degree bend, then semi-circle. Ok, got it. About 5ish minutes and I get it out. Not terrible for my first try. I clean it and then start putting it back in. 

Making sure the hole doesn't close up

Hmmm…gets in half-way then nothing.

I can’t tell if it’s in enough to start turning it.

Shit. Am I turning clockwise or counter? 

Why can’t I see up my nose?

I need another hand. "GARYYYYYY, CAN YOU COME UP HERE????"

Gary holds a flashlight, I still can’t get it. Gary tries, he can’t get it.

The earring I slept in all night

Shit, it’s 8pm now. I’m hungry, annoyed, which equated to me being Hangry, with a capitol H. And I’d be at this for nearly 2-hours. Not kidding. The piercing studios are all closed now. I can’t leave it out all night, it’ll close up.

Ah ha! Knowing that I need to secure the earring well enough for me to sleep through the night, I grab a dangly earring that I can flip to backing up to close it for the night. This is definitely not how I envisioned a Friday night as a childless married couple.

Off to the piercing studio first thing the next day for a temp stud. Then back again the following week, after I lost the temp stud in my dust mask while working on the basement, for a more secure stud. *End side note

At this point early summer 2019, Gary and I are beyond frustrated with health insurance. We start discussing the idea of medical tourism. You can do it on your own or you can hire a company that helps you select a country, hospital and doctor to perform your surgery. You bypass your health insurance company and pay out of pocket. 

I explore options in Spain, Italy and Thailand, but quickly realize those won’t work. After your jaws are broken, you can’t fly for 6-8 weeks; the pressure changes are not good for healing bones. Plus, I’m not sure I want to be stuck in another country for quite that long. So, we decide on Canada (yes, technically another country, but it's Canada). Gary spent a full day calling hospitals and surgeons in Montreal and Nova Scotia to learn more about the process, which is rather easy.

Canada has about a 6-month waiting list, not terrible. The hospital and surgeon would cost about $12,000. That’s not bad at all! But Canada is on hold for now because just you wait until chapter 8!