Teeeeefff

So last week I went in to see my implants dream team for a quick check up to see how things are going. It was to be something like a 30min appointment and then off I would go to work on time.

Well, the Gods of healing and spontaneity obviously had other plans.

That’s a silly thing to say I know. Other plans were made space for by my wonderful implants team and supporting staff who rallied to make something special happen.

I’ll start from the beginning.

Always such a pleasure to see Andrew and Hannah, my implants heroes. I enjoy my appointments with them, and not just because I often get good news and make progress, but because I generally enjoy catching up with them

I got in the chair and Andrew started screwing the placeholder teeth off. I’m trying to remember what specific word he used, but for the life of me I can’t. But the gist was something along the lines of ‘Let’s see if they’re stable. They might not be. And if they’re not, that’s ok, they may still become stable. But let’s hope they are.’

So I lay there and crossed my fingers as he removed the teeth. Yes, I actually crossed them. Fiercely. And kept them crossed until he had checked all implants. First one, good. Two out of three are good. That one is good too.

Yes. That’s three! My crossed fingers turned into two thumbs up. And I smiled even though I had a mouthful of hands. Happy happy Jen.

They decided that since it was all healing well, they would change the… Um.. Abutments. There’s a good word for your vocabulary.

They’re the bits where the implants attach to my new teeth. If you remember, for the past two months I have had wax ‘placeholder’ teeth. They were loosely based on my mouth, but a mouth that was entirely different pre-implant surgery. So they didn’t fit properly, were uncomfortable and difficult to talk with and I couldn’t eat with them (or take them out).

Well, Andrew decided that since he was disturbing it anyway, and since it was healing nicely, what did I think of a better set of teeth? I smiled. Manically? Yeah probably manically. I liked that offer very much.

He got the teeth makers on the phone.
‘Do you think you might be able to make some teeth? Like now? She’s super difficult…’
Ok, ok, he didn’t call ME difficult, he would never do that. I’m obvi dreamy and so not difficult (ha, I think that probably depends on who you ask). But I do appreciate when he mentions that I’m a particularly difficult case. It drives home just what a fantastic job they’re all doing and reinforces that there was no guarantee it would all be going as remarkably well as it is. And I think that’s important. And heartening. But I digress. I’ve written about that before.

The teeth makers said yes, they most certainly could, and in fact WOULD, right there and then. It would just take a couple of hours. So my mouth was filled with wax and various other things to make impressions. Let me mention here how disconcerting that can be when you can’t breathe through your nose.

After all the prelim work was done, I needed to wait until they were done. He put some nice long rods onto the end of my implants which my tongue had a field day playing with over the next couple of hours (photo at the end of this post in which I’m looking particularly sexy. JOKES – prepare yourself). These were new, they hadn’t been there before. They were just for the moulds so that the teeth makers could see where the abutments were. They’re not still in now.

While we’re waiting for them to make the teeth, grab a cup of tea (I did) and let me tell you about my gums. The implants (metal rods) are just placed in my mouth wherever they need to be. Which leaves my gums trying to work out how to fit in around them. There are two points of my gums that pull and essentially tear a bit when I smile, eat, brush my teeth, etc. Imagine just on on the right hand side of your left canine and on the right hand side of your right canine. Does that make sense? My lip is essentially sewed in those two spots and when I smile it pulls. Too many boring details? Anyway, the left one had been bad over the previous week. So when I got into the chair it hurt, God it hurt. So we ended up injecting me with some anaesthetic. The exchange went like something like this:
‘Do you want some anaesthetic?’
‘No. let’s see how I go. Ow ow ow.’
‘You could have a bit…’
‘Should I? Whatever you want…’
*Stab Stab stab*
WHY DO MOUTH INJECTIONS HURT SO MUCH
I think I squeaked.
And then it went numb so that was cool.

Eventually I got some surprise new temporary teeth, and I’m allowed to start trying to chew on these ones. My other side connect first so these are just cursory and not that great for actual chewing (and crunchy things like raw carrot are prohibited). But they also look a lot better. As soon as I saw them I smiled. They fit a lot better (but not perfect yet) and are a lot less uncomfortable. So I am awash with smiles and hope. Oh and I ate a burger on the weekend! Without using a knife and fork! MILESTONE!

These are not the final set, but they are a big step in the right direction.

I still look bloody weird in most photos (most, not all) but I hope one day the swelling in my face will come down which might help with that, and hopefully my next teeth will be the final step in giving my face the shape it needs. It has lost a lot of of its symmetry and parts of it don’t really move anymore…

Oh well.

Getting so close………….

SO close.

My metal rods (you were warned):

New teef:

So where am I at right now?

When I was about 7, I went to a gymnastics day at my local sports hall. For some reason I put sunscreen on… perhaps it was the day before that I put it on? Perhaps I’m mixing my memories, but this feels right. That day I found out I was allergic to sunscreen. Banana Boat, specifically. I suppose I had worn sunscreen before that, but that day we used Banana Boat and my skin screamed. I came out in big, scary, angry red welts. My skin felt tight, itchy, unmovable. I’ve always remembered the itchiness, but up until now I hadn’t remembered the tight feeling across my face and the inability to make facial expressions. As I tried to smile, the creases my face made felt like I had layers of thick mud on top of my skin. But no, that was just the swelling and reaction to the sunscreen.

Post implant surgery I have been like that again – not red, not itchy. But the tightness and the swelling has brought back memories to that day.

A particularly odd sensation – my ears have felt like they’re being lifted forward off my head. I’m not sure why, perhaps because of the tightening of skin in my face. I remember this from the last surgery too, but there was a lot of other stuff going on that it wasn’t my top worry.

Well the obvious thing to say is that what I’ve been going through this time is nothing compared to what I was going through coming out of surgery over a year ago. It doesn’t even register on the scale compared with that.

But with me being me and thinking everything will be ‘all good’… it’s also a lot more serious than I thought it would be. I’ve needed more recovery time than I was anticipating.

Weirdly, the pain in my face has been greater than it was from THE surgery. I guess it’s less numb now and I’m on less pain killers…

They cut all the gums in my mouth in order to access all the points they needed, so there are stitches and raw wounds in there.
My lips have been cracked and sore from a couple of hours of having tools shoved past them.
My face is bruised from having instruments on it and people working on top of it.
My neck has been sore from the angle they had me at during the surgery.
My jaw has been really painful.
My cheekbones ache from the inside and hurt from the outside. They feel bruised to touch.
When I wiggle my right cheekbone it wiggles my lip… that’s kind of fun.
I am exhausted most of the time.
I’ve had to sleep upright again, which has been mentally taxing. Trying to get comfortable by stacking pillows on top of each other has thrown me back to what it was like a year ago. Things always seem more difficult at night.

Sometimes I wonder how my body is able to take all this beating and still come out the other side, essentially functioning… But here we are, still going.

So. I went in to see the dental implant guys at Dawood and Tanner and they have given me some teeth… kinda. They’re just temporary teeth. Placeholders. They don’t really fit right (they just kind of stick out in the middle of my mouth), I can’t eat with them (super difficult since I can’t take them out…), but they’ll stay in for the next 3 months until I get my proper ones. I did a few videos on my instagram so you can see them – click on the circle on the top left that says ‘implants’ at the following link:
https://www.instagram.com/thecancerchrons/

They’re uncomfortable, painful, don’t look right and make it quite difficult to talk and obviously eat, but they look like teeth, and it’s nice to know that people won’t look at me strangely anymore. Well not quite so strangely, anyway. Still a way to go before we get them right, but I’m one step closer.

Surgery part 2

I think we tend to build up our medical professionals as wizards, magicians, Gods. And in a way, they are. The work that they are doing is beyond belief, and I have gone into my surgeries with complete trust in these people, putting my life in their hands.

Lay-people have said to me all along ‘oh, you’ll be fixed as good as new by the end’ and ‘you may have concerns, but don’t worry, it’s amazing what they can do these days, they can fix anything’. Of course there is a lot of truth in that. And I know when people say these things, it’s to be reassuring. But I also want to point out that continuing to propagate these messages is somewhat dismissing the mammoth task these people are doing, as well as dismissing me for being realistic about it.

From the beginning, the surgeons and my implant specialists prepared me for that fact that although we were hoping for everything to go wonderfully smoothly, it really is a big and difficult job, and there are no guarantees. I just want to stress this fact. There were so many things that could not go according to plan. Apart from the usual surgery things, there’s also the fact that they’re trying to fix implants into a ‘jaw’ that is actually a shoulder bone… Like…what?! How is that even possible?

And this is why it was a combined job between Andrew Dawood and his specialist dental team, and the original surgeons who did my reconstruction. I saw Deepti before, and the surgeons after, but I wasn’t able to see the Dawood team at all during my hospital stay, which felt so odd because I knew they were there, behind the scenes… I was comforted knowing I had met them previously however, I can’t stress how much of a difference it makes to already know the people who are doing things to you while you’re asleep. Ok that sounded creepy…

Going into this surgery, they were planning on 5 implants. 3 zygomatic ones (those big ones that go into my cheekbones) and two ‘normal’ ones which just go directly into the roof of the mouth. When I woke up, my tongue found three. I wondered if this meant that it didn’t go as successfully as they had hoped, but Deepti mentioned the next day that they didn’t think they needed the other two, so I think that’s fine. She also said in passing ‘it was a bit of a difficult surgery, the left side was fine but the right side was a bit tricky, as you would expect considering how much we’ve done in there’.

Of course you don’t want your surgeons going on and on about how difficult it was and how much they struggled, but I wonder how much ‘it turned out ok’ in hindsight relates to some real struggles in surgery. So I really just want to take a moment to mention all the people who were in there, the huge team of people and support staff who were poking away at me, toiling through the hours of the evening to take me that next step.

So to follow up on ‘when I woke up, my tongue found three’, let me explain. The only difference I could tell post surgery (aside from swelling) is that there are there little caps sticking out of the roof of my mouth. As I write this now a few days later, I can hardly feel them anymore. The little caps are on the end of these three big metal posts that go through the roof of my mouth and into my cheekbones. Eventually these little ‘healing caps’ will be taken off and the teeth attached to them. These are what will anchor the new teeth in.

One other difference was that they released the damn scar tissue that was pulling my lip in. When I saw Deepti the next day she said I would be happy to know that they did that. I smiled and nodded. Well I tried to smile, but with all the swelling, I think I just looked at her. But I’m sure she knew I was smiling.

So it was around half 10 (pm) when I got back to the ward after surgery, I spent the trip to my bay chatting with Anna, the nurse from my ICU stay over a year ago. I think I was overcompensating for my dopey wakeup and was talking about 100 miles an hour. She said she’d been keeping up with the blog, nothing made me happier than hearing that.

I slept in bits and pieces overnight, as it goes when sleeping on a ward. It’s all a bit confusing, I’m not sure how much of that is related to the anaesthetic, and how much is just the odd environment and the people around you talking, turning lights on and off, alarms going off, etc. either way it’s all a bit disorientating. But I felt surprisingly calm. And I was grateful not to have a feeding tube (it was a potential risk), and holding onto those words I hoped I hadn’t dreamed: ‘it went well’.

The next morning was ward rounds and a whole army of people came by. Seriously, there were  about 20 of them. Through the sea of faces, Deepti came to the front, loitering at the back were Mr K and Mr Lieu (my original surgeons – I tried to smile at them, but I think my smiling capabilities were rather compromised, so again I think I just stared), and then Claire (surgeon from the first time around) rotated to the front at one point and said hi, more attempts at smiles from me.

They said I would be leaving that day and that Deepti would be around later to ‘fill up the holes with glue’. Ah now that’s terminology I can understand! Wait, you’re gluing my mouth up??? In the process of chopping through scar tissue and securing implants etc. some of the ‘flap’ (roof of my mouth) collected a few holes in it. Two that I could feel with my tongue but didn’t hurt, and one at the back that was quite raw and painful. Later that afternoon she came back and filled them all in.

It was quite a big day. A few other people I knew swung by and said hi, and I met with someone who was doing a Masters and working in patient involvement. She was awesome and we had a good chat, glad to be connected with her. Australian of course – we seem to find each other.

There was also an emergency on the ward during the morning, alarms going off, people running around, with phrases being shouted out such as ‘we got him back into surgery’ and ‘he just started bleeding and we couldn’t stop it’ ‘we had to give him 6 packets of blood’. Don’t worry, it wasn’t my friend, he was recovering down in ICU at this point. But it was a little throw back to me getting rushed back into emergency surgery over a year before, from the exact same ward. I hope he was ok, as I was then. But of course, ok because the surgeons rushed back into surgery to save him. What a job. Nurses had to go and change their uniforms as they had blood on them. This hospital business is serious.

So eventually Deepti made her way back to me, having dealt with the emergency and she filled my holes and we had a chat. She said she’d see me again in clinic in a week or so.

I also saw a nutritionist. The hospital is not set up for people who need a liquid diet. Yes they have soup (when they haven’t run out) but they had on my file that I could only have yoghurt. But it wasn’t easy to find yoghurt, and the nutritionist said she thought I probably wasn’t allowed yoghurt because it wasn’t liquid enough. I had been fasting since Monday night for surgery, and it was now Wednesday morning. Someone gave me a yoghurt after surgery so I had that, but then I wasn’t sure what I could or couldn’t eat. It was like going back to a year ago when there was literally nothing in hospital that I could eat. At least this time I was physically able to put yoghurt in my mouth, but the year before I was not able to because of the swelling, which meant no food while in hospital for Jen. When the nutritionist turned up she gave me some terrible supplement drinks to take home and we discussed what I would eat once I was discharged. I’ve got this, I promise. Ain’t my first rodeo.

The ward ordered my discharge meds, but said it would take some time. It always takes some time. So I popped down to ICU in the meantime  to check up on my friend. He was waiting to come up to the ward. On the way I ran into a nurse who works at UCLH who I know from Instagram (and obviously have mutual contacts) but have never actually met. That was pretty great. Glad she recognised me, I was in a bit of a daze the whole time I was in there.

My friend was doing ok. He had a big surgery, I knew how he must have been feeling. Exhausted, to say the least. But it was nice to say hi to him and his parents. Sending so much love to them all. I can’t begin to explain how happy I had felt that we were both going back in on the same day, both getting some sort of progress, and how great it had been to see him. We’re in this together.

My nurse (again, another familiar face from the year before) said that it would take forever to get the meds to the ward but it wouldn’t take so long if I went to pick them up at the discharge lounge. So I packed up my things, said bye to my ward buddies and set off to the discharge lounge.

When I got there, they made me a cup of tea (dream) and said that my meds would be there within an hour. Great. I don’t want to dwell on it too long but it took about 3 hours until they finally got my meds. It was 6pm by this stage, my painkillers had long since worn off and I was exhausted from talking, smiling (/staring) and being switched on. I was in pain, I was tired, I needed to get home. It had been less than 24 hours since surgery and I just needed to get out of there. I hit a wall. I started crying at one point when they came back after a couple of hours and said there was still no sign of my meds. One of the people kept trying to talk to me but I had to tell her it was too painful to keep talking. I blew my nose and there was blood (there had been all day, it was an expected side effect, they drilled through my sinus cavities, though without puncturing the mucous lining). Eventually they tracked down my meds, I got in the Uber (there was an Uber strike that afternoon of course, but a couple were still working) and I eventually got home, collapsed and slept.

Tired lil puff face Jen just after getting home (with a slight black eye starting to appear):

Friday surgery retraction statement

You know… I probably jinxed it by telling you all it was happening…

But I got a call earlier in the week saying they ‘couldn’t find a consultant’ for Friday.

I don’t really understand what that means, I thought it was meant to be my surgeon, Mr K who did it. But I guess maybe not? Maybe it’s just a lucky-dip, nab an unlucky intern who can consult.

Jokes.

Though I wonder why they are so cagey about giving me details about things.

So I’ve now cancelled a few things I was planning on doing and the like, which is a bit of a pain but I guess I can’t really complain, I guess these things happen.

I’m grateful to have a date, but I do feel a bit deflated that it’s now been moved… But what can you do. On the plus side my recovery will now be during the week as opposed to over the weekend, so I’ll have to have a few days off work. I guess that’s something!

In other news, I was asked to speak a few weeks ago to the ‘Airway Management Hub’ at UCLH (pic below) about my experience with the dreaded tracheostomy (post surgery breathing tube, for any of you who aren’t familiar with the terminology). I had a great time (at the talk, not with the trachy), and was able to provide some input about the patient perspective. The tracheostomy is a pretty scary thing and I would like to be able to help make the process better for the people going through it, so hopefully more will come from this, I think there are some important conversations to be had.

Anyway, happy Friday, friends. Looking forward to sleeping all day tomorrow!

Off we go again…

Hello everyone, I know I’ve been quiet for a bit, it’s been cold, I’ve been busy and my parents have been visiting for a few weeks. I’ve been ticking along as usual, a few things you would probably appreciate an update on.

I had my clinic appointment a couple of weeks ago to get my MRI results and the day before I got a call asking if some of my blood could be collected for research. Yes yes yes yes research! Always yes! So I went along early to get my blood taken. There was a new staff member who was being supervised by another, but she assured me she was very experienced. Not that it bothered me too much but I gave my usual disclaimer that my veins are difficult. They assured me there would be no issue. Cool. We’ll see.

She tried one arm and found the vein but my blood didn’t want to leave me. Aww my blood has separation anxiety. Cute. She asked if she could try again. Of course. Better luck this time. She got the needle in my hand and it started slowly filling the tube but then it stopped flowing and started hurting quite a bit.

‘The vein is going to blow!’ She announced with a wavering voice. I looked at the other nurse and she looked at me with what looked like a slightly worried face. I looked down to see my vein bulging.

Wait, did she say it’s going to… ‘Blow…?’

‘It’s bleeding under the skin… I need get it out…’

Ya… safe to say the blood rushed away from my head then. Or to it? Either way I felt very hot and faint. I’m sure that’s a perfectly normal thing to happen but it’s just not what you need to be told when you’re already in pain and stressed. So she stopped and I lay down.

Then of course I was annoyed because I had failed at helping with research. Lots of apologising from them, from me, good fun. I went and had a little cry in the bathroom, stressed by the situation and frustrated that I couldn’t help. I went back out to wait for my clinic appointment and a little while later the nurse came and apologised again (as did I) and she gave me a haematology pin to say thanks. That was sweet, I like pins.

I made a friend while waiting to see my Oncologist, he had also had a face sarcoma. Twice. We were laughing about all the random body parts we have in our face. It’s a strange club to be in. You know you’re with people who get it when you can call someone ‘greedy’ for having cancer twice and have a laugh about it.

Everything went smoothly with Mr Onc. ‘Nothing in your lungs’
‘Oh that’s good! But I thought you said…’
‘It looked like something but it wasn’t. Or at least if it is, I don’t know what it is yet so I’ll see you in 3 months and we’ll look again’
Ha. Good. Bye.  ‘I like not seeing you very often’ I said as I shook his hand and scurried out.

He also said to me ‘this summer will be two years since diagnosis, won’t it!!’ I didn’t believe him and said ‘No surgery was only a year ago’. He looked at me weirdly and was like ‘yes…… And you had treatment before that……’  LOL yes he’s right.

Well apart from that, I’ve got the first of my teeth surgeries on April 12th. We’ll find out then what will be possible (I think? It sounds likely…) and then hopefully if I’m lucky and everything goes quickly and according to plan, by the end of the year I might be ready to look at some sort of teeth thing! Though that’s probably being a bit hopeful, these things usually take a lot longer, mainly because it takes so long to hand write, print and send letters in order for any process to get moving.

Yes this is good news, and I’m so glad to have some progress! But I’d rather avoid comments of ‘that’s amazing, soon you’ll look all better’ and the like. Or ‘wow teeth in April!’ Because it will still be a while until I actually get them, whatever they may be. I don’t know how I will look, I don’t know how much they can do (if anything), and although I am optimistic for the best, I need to manage expectations, both yours and mine. So we’ll see. Progress is good. Let’s see what happens next in this crazy adventure shall we?

Hilariously, I went along to my ‘pre-assessment clinic’, which I thought would be when I’d find out what they’re going to do in this surgery I’ve got coming up next week. But the nurse and anaesthetist who were running the meeting were asking me questions like: ‘Who is doing your surgery? Are you staying in overnight? What are they planning on doing?’
The anaesthetist even asked how long my surgery was meant to go for! Ummmmm………. You’re asking ME? Well that’s reassuring.

No one has told me anything about this surgery, I was kind of hoping that they were going to at this meeting. I hope by the time I get there on Friday they’ve worked out the answers to those questions because if not, well… I might end up with an amputated leg, or less one kidney or something. I guess I don’t really need two kidneys if it comes to that.

What I have pieced together from talking to random (non medical) people around the place is that they’re just going to drill in a bit and cover it back over for 6 months. But I guess I’ll let you know in a couple of weeks if that’s the case. I have no idea how disruptive it will be, how long I’ll be in hospital (I think just the one day?), or what the recovery will be like. I hear it will be swollen and sore but obviously nothing like what I’ve already been through so I’m not too bothered.

I’ll keep you all posted! Until we next speak, have a great week!

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.