Teeth talk time

I thought it really was about time I did a teeth update.

So I’ve been going in to trial some teeth to see how they will look. A couple of weeks ago I went in ready to try some teeth on for size, I sat in the chair, and I put the teeth in. Now they don’t stay in on their own, I can’t talk or anything with them, but if I keep my teeth together then they stay in place. They gave me a hand-held mirror, which I sat on my lap as I put the teeth in, eventually putting it up in front of my face once they were in place and… well… I think watching this clip will give you an idea of how it went. This is an actual, exact re-enactment of how it went (must watch this before reading on)…


Yep. OK so they weren’t quite that bad, I slightly jest. But they were big. I felt quite strange. Actually it was quite demoralising, not going to lie. You pin all your hopes and dreams on looking a bit more normal with teeth and you see them and all you can think is ‘they’re not my teeth… Who’s teeth are they?’

Dwayne’s apparently.

I was clearly unhappy and the dentist and her assistant were telling me they looked good but I just didn’t feel right. She said ‘it’s probably just been so long that you’re used to seeing yourself without teeth and now having them there again seems weird. You’ve probably forgot what they looked like.’ Not a damn chance. ‘You’ve never had your teeth out and your face rebuilt’ snapped petulant teenage Jen who was lurking somewhere inside me. I felt bad saying it, but it’s true. It maybe seemed like the right thing for her to say but no, I don’t forget exactly what the teeth I have had for 30 years looked like just because I’ve been 9 months without them.

It was hard to tell how much of my dissatisfaction was just in general with the fact I’m going to look different now anyway no matter what, or whether they really were too big. But it felt like something worth fighting for. Although they told me big teeth are beautiful and they look fine, I was adamant that I needed smaller teeth. Well… I say adamant, if they were to tell me that smaller teeth wouldn’t work, I would learn to live with whatever I had to. But they agreed to try again and we booked in for me to go back the following week to try a size smaller. I didn’t feel great when I left the dentist surgery that day.

I worried of course that I wouldn’t like the smaller teeth either and I would have wasted their time and made a nuisance of myself. I almost feel like they’re a private practice and I’m a charity case (i.e. NHS), like they’re doing me a favour for treating me and I should just be grateful and do as I’m told. They don’t make me feel like that in any way, but I can’t help but have that thought in the back of my mind. I am so grateful to them for treating me, I know how lucky I am.

Anyway, cut to a week later. The weather had taken a turn for the worst, the day was cold, dark and rainy. The previous week had been sunny. Was London feeling my worries too? Mirroring my apprehension?

I sat in the chair again, held the mirror, put the teeth in, tentatively pulled the mirror up in front of me and smiled. Like… Smiled. Not just moved my lips back to reveal my teeth, I really smiled. They were my teeth. I felt relief wash over me. The dentist and assistant agreed, these were the ones. In fact the dentist said she was glad that we went for smaller teeth and that she has to remember that they’re my teeth. It’s a good point. Maybe the big teeth do look better on paper but it’s important for them to look good on me. That I feel comfortable.

She took a couple of photos and showed them to me. They were difficult to look at because it showed me how little of my face the teeth would actually fix, and how snarly I’m going to look, but hey. I’m going to have to come to terms with that eventually.

I should just interject here, someone said to me the other day ‘please don’t think I’m being an idiot, but didn’t they take moulds before surgery so that they would have something to base your teeth on?’ Not being an idiot, though I can see why you might think so for asking, you would think it would be the obvious thing to have done, but no. The dentists wanted moulds, but I guess it wasn’t something my surgeons had thought was an important thing to do before knocking my teeth out. I think in future it would be a bit better if somehow that process could be ironed out for any others going through a similar thing. It only takes a few minutes and would make such difference for the process later.

Now they’re starting to think about implants. They’re not confident they’ll be able to give me many, maybe a couple. But fingers crossed they’ll be able to get at least one in, because that will mean they’ll have something to anchor some dentures to. Otherwise they said they can look at implanting a piece of metal in my new top jaw and holding some dentures in using magnets. They’re aiming for surgery in Jan/Feb.

So here we are – angled and smiling, so it doesn’t look too bad…

I give you my trial teeth!

The next page in the teeth story…

I had another appointment with the teeth man today. Actually at the moment it’s the teeth woman. She’s working with me to see if we can make a temporary denture-type thing for the time being, before we start looking at implants.

Today it was to see if something will fit in my mouth and to see how far we can build it out to hopefully make my nose and face less collapsed. The answer is not very far. I still have this bit of scar tissue right across the inside of my lip which means that when teeth go in there, instead of pulling my lip into my mouth as it does now, it pulls my lip up into a super attractive snarl and I can’t close my lips. Which leaves me looking rather ridiculous. My nose is still collapsed, my face still sunken and I’m snarling with open lips.

So…

I’m not sure where to go with that. Also as it will all be held in place by the few teeth left on the left hand side of my mouth, I think it will be rather loose and might not make talking or eating very easy.

I was holding out hope for this next step to make things a bit better, but being hopeful does tempt fate and I should really have known better. I guess I was prepared for this… It’s still a bit disheartening. But on the way home I discovered that Bowie narrated Peter and the Wolf and it’s on Spotify. So… I feel like that’s some sort of consolation.

They’ve made some super cool moulds of my mouth, which are fun to look at. They were less fun to make. As I can’t breathe through my nose, it’s a bit of a nightmare to have your mouth filled with the gooey stuff they make moulds from. At one point she covered up my teeth completely and I couldn’t breathe at all. Oh well, I survived, still breathing! Two more weeks until my next appointment, and another appointment two weeks after that. No idea what each is for specifically, or what sort of timeline we’re looking at for what. But we are moving, so that’s something.

Monday Monday Monday

And not just any Monday, but one that had the potential to hold news about small white things that go in your mouth and help with things like talking, eating and generally living.

Yes.

Teeth.

After weeks (months overall!!! 7 in fact!) of waiting and chasing, I finally got the call I had been waiting for: a referral to the seemingly elusive teeth man.

Let me try to explain the things riding on this appointment.

Firstly I was hopeful to find a timeline and course of action for teeth and hopefully get some information about the process because I have less than no understanding what happens or how it works. In fact the only things I know about it were from a chat with the CFO at work who seemed to have some very basic knowledge about implants.

I went in and had an x-ray first before seeing the teeth man. The machine played a strange digital rendition of Fur Elise by Beethoven. Which coincidentally is also the sound my doorbell makes. I tried to stay still and not giggle.

The waiting room was fancy. This place was fancy. The dental nurses wear white and the dentists blue.

My dentist Dr Dawood is my new best friend (yes I’m well aware I’ve got a few of them now). He was so nice, really easy to talk to, and also realistic. He looked at my teeth and asked if I ate a lot of fruit. Um… Not particularly… Then he asked if I’m vegetarian. No… Then he said ‘how have you been surviving?!’ I said brilliantly! I munch on everything!

So, we start on Wednesday (omgomgomgomg), taking moulds first. They will get the ones that Deepti took before surgery and make my new teeth just like my old ones! Cooooool.

First they will look at making a denture and see how it fits (if it even fits after everything that has changed in there) and then later consider implants.

Until we start trying we don’t know if it will work. If it doesn’t work, it’ll be back to my surgical team and back into surgery to look into more reconstruction from another body part. Yay for being plunged back into March.

Also there’s a good chance my lip won’t be able to fit over teeth anymore, especially with my sunken face, collapsed nose and the scar tissue from the stitches. So there might be issues there with actually fitting teeth in my mouth. And even if I can get the teeth in, they won’t fix these things so I’ll always look a bit odd. Better get used to being told by new people I meet that I have a cleft palate… Eye roll

But still, teeth is better than no teeth. And we’re aiming to have something temporary by the end of November! GUESS WHAT THAT WOULD BE IN TIME FOR?!! BIRTHDAYBIRTHDAYBIRTHDAYBIRTHDAY!

I was bouncing around manically and smiling rather widely as we booked in appointments over the next month or so. The receptionist who booked me in was lovely but I had to laugh. She asked me if I’d had an accident and I said no, cancer, and they cut my jaw out and now I’m just waiting for teeth.

‘Oh so your mum or dad has it too?’ She asked.

‘No, there’s no genetic link for bone cancer’ I replied.

‘And you didn’t smoke or anything?’

‘Lol no…’

The old what-did-you-do-to-cause-it-so-I-can-check-I-won’t-get-it job. Sorry love, you’re just as likely to get cancer as I was. Most cancers don’t have a genetic, environmental or lifestyle cause, we didn’t do anything wrong to bring it on ourselves…