jaw surgery, cadavers, and whatever else in June

Seriously, June. Cut it out. I can’t seem to get anything done, because you keep throwing me massive curve balls! Not cool.

Where to begin, where to begin.

I was walking to the liquor store last night to pick up some beer for Thomas (he was working an Über-long shift to ensure his last one day goes smoothly and he’s not there all night) and on the way there, some kid who looked no older than 15 yelled at me while I was walking. I popped out my earbud and he said “Hey, can I bum a cigarette off you?”

Seriously?? I looked at him and said “Sorry buddy, I don’t smoke,” and as I kept walking he said “I could buy one off you, I could pay you for it!” “Dude, seriously, I don’t smoke and you shouldn’t either!” I said, with a bit of a laugh and kept walking.

I put my earbud back in, convinced that this dude would chase me down and punch me in the back of the head for suggesting that he shouldn’t indulge in his cancerous habit. But, that’s just the paranoid part of me. No such thing happened.

I picked up the beer, and a bottle of wine for myself to enjoy after Thomas heads to Calgary on Monday (sob, sob). I started walking home in the same direction, and now the original two misfits were joined by two more. Again, I started getting a little paranoid, mean-world-syndrome scared of this pack of 15-year-olds while simultaneously picturing in my head how I would defend myself in the event that they try to harass/mug me for my beer (also, seriously Communication Theory? Can you please vacate my brainspace? It’s been two years!).

One approached me (a different one from the cigarette guy) and looked at my purchases. He then said “Hey…can I buy whatever’s in that bag from you?” (the wine). He had no idea what was in my brown paper bag, but he wanted some liquor. I laughed and said “Not a chance, dude!” while again thinking that I’d gone too far. He kind of laughed and said “Okay, okay, go have your fun!” and as I walked away I turned and said “Yup, and give it a couple of years, then you can have yours too!”

Moral of the story: Not everyone wants to mug you for your liquor, Kylie. Calm down.

The title for this post comes from the appointment I had with my surgeon (yes, I’ve joined the I-need-a-surgeon club, yippee!) on Wednesday. This was the last piece of the puzzle that I needed to fill in before submitting my application to the OMDS program in Alberta. My surgeon is confident that my application will go through, thanks to the extent of the damage caused by who-knows-what to the enamel on my teeth. I need to go in for genetic screening to confirm or rule out the presence of Amelogenesis imperfecta.

Like I said, though, he seems confident that I’ll get the funding I need to fix my teeth. But, this dental visit was not cheap. To get his consultation and opinion, plus the application to OMDS, I had to fork over $1xxx.xx to his office. OUCH. With a move on the horizon and damage deposits, rent, utilities, etc needing to be paid, this is a major sock to the stomach/wallet. But, it’s what I need to do to finish what I started and get my teeth taken care of once and for all.

He also explained more about the surgery to me. I’ll be in braces for about two years before he’ll do his part, to ensure that the teeth are in a good position. Then, he’ll break my palate and my jaw, and rearrange them into a better shape. My jaw grew straight down instead of curving, so he’ll fix that for me. I also have a narrow mouth (apparently?) so he’ll work on widening that as well.

The best, best part of the whole visit was when he was explaining the surgery (seriously). He mentioned where the breaks are going to happen, what he’ll be doing, then he said “And then I’ll break your jaw, and fuse some cadaverous bone tissue into the break. We find that helps to minimize the bleeding and speed up the healing process.”

Wait, WHAT?

“Hey, did you say…’cadaverous?’” I asked. “Yup,” he responded. “Dead people bones.”

Oh my GOD. How cool is that?! I WILL HAVE THE BONES OF A DEAD PERSON IN MY FACE FOR LIFE. If there’s ever a need for me to have a CSI-like investigation into my death, they’ll need to look for TWO SETS OF DNA IN MY FACE. I can’t get over the awesomeness of that.

So, there’s only two more full days of having Thomas here (he leaves for Calgary on Monday) and then it’s me on my own in the house until August. Boo-urns. Then we have just over a week to pay our damage deposit on the new place. Eek.

Anyone want to toss me a few thousand dollars? That would be awesome.