the brown tooth

I will forewarn you that this post is not a story, but more of a rant! I apologize in advance, but I did warn you.

Ugh.
So almost a year later and I am still dealing with my stupid mouth.
Two and half years ago when all of this started, I was told it would take 18months TOTAL--including recovery, etc. To my calculations 2 and 1/2 years is well over 18 months and I am annoyed.
The surgery is over, the braces are off. (for that I am grateful) I can move my mouth like a normal person (though I still think it looks a little weird, especially when I talk.) But I am still dealing with all of it. Not paying, not bills, but with a brown tooth.
Uncool.
They killed the tooth while breaking and moving my jaw. Apparently, it doesn't happen often. And of all the random things that could happen following a jaw surgery, a killed tooth is one of the best ones. (really.)
But it is still a pain.
And of course, the dead tooth is right up front. One of the big ones. And contrary to what people tell me, it IS noticable. (The dude asked within 3 minutes of saying hello.)
The process of bleaching the tooth to match the other teeth is tedious. It begins with a root canal. Mind you, I have never had a cavity, let alone a root canal. I had a root canal one month after my jaw surgery. (Last March). And the bleaching needed to wait until after my braces were off. They came off in October. And now, here we are in February (almost) and I have the first in a series of teeth bleaching appointments scheduled one year to the day after my jaw surgery.
I had hoped all would be done. Checked off the list. Chapter closed. Now it's moving into other chapters.

I mean, really, it could be worse. I know that.
But I can still be annoyed that this is not checked off the list.

Santa is that you?

I have said this before and I will say it again, I am one of the luckiest ladies ever! Really. Throughout the last 2 and 1/2 months, I have received more love and more support than any one person deserves. In preparation for my surgery and the recovery, I got a piece of mail, an email, or some little keepsake EVERY SINGLE DAY. It was like Christmas around this place! I cannot believe the love, kindness, and support from so many of the people I love. Thank you doesn't seem to cover it. Two little words that are supposed to say so much. But that is all there is-- THANK YOU!

I truly believe the positive thoughts sent my way have made my recovery one of the best ones my surgeon has ever seen (and that is a direct quote). The only way I can say thank you will be to repay the kindness and love shown to me by doing for others what has been done for me.

THANK YOU!

Have you seen my oil can?

First, let me preface by saying--Damn, it's been awhile and I'm sorry! I follow other blogs and get annoyed when there are HUGE lapses between posts. (I know I shouldn't, but I totally do. Reading them is my favorite part of my morning "news" updates.) Anyways, sorry it's been so long--there was a surgery, the recovery, and then a work trip. And here we are. So, onto today's post**

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Do you remember the scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy has seen the Tin Man in the field and realizes he is trying to speak to her? Then she finds that uber convenient basket of Tin Man supplies (maybe it's just the oil can...I am not sure). Well the magic is that as soon as she oils him, he can hold a conversation normally. I am jealous. You may ask why I am jealous of the Tin Man...I want a conveniently located basket of Jessica supplies.

It's officially been 5 weeks since my jaw suregery and I am growing impatient with this recovery period. Right now, I SO wish there was an oil can to grease my jaw joints and restore them back to normal! Although the recovery is going "beautifully", I am ready to be back to normal. As others have pointed out, it's only been 5 weeks since I had a MAJOR surgery. I mean, I look like a different person (well, really a different version of myself). That kind of change requires some time to heal. And patience when it comes to my health is definately not a strength I possess. You would think it would be with all the random ailments I have due to the autoimmune disease, but alas no. I am as impatient with illness as a supreme athlete! (I don't know why but I have to assume super athletes get really annoyed when they're ill since the illness keeps them from their athletic event).

So I am going to put it out there-- if you somehow come across a basket of Jessica supplies, please send it my way. I mean, who knows, maybe my supply basket just got misplaced at or near an old address...

And if it isn't found, then good old-fashioned chewing will have to do all the "greasing" for me. Sigh.

**I have some backdated posts that I need to post in the coming days. I promise I'll get it together and post them very soon

love in an elevator.

What is it with elevators? They are in songs, featured as main characters in sitcoms, and the most anti-social small space to share with strangers. Today I rode in a few elevators and had the thought about how we can share such a close space and not even look someone in the eye--at all. I decided from now I would break that social norm and smile, make eye-contact and say a small hello (just like my friend Molly). For the better part of the day, this proved to make the trips up and down more enjoyable and less akward.

I had just seen my surgeon for the pre-op appointment and got all the nitty-gritty details and my inner- scientist questions answered. My head was spinning, but in a good way. I am ready! (Before going on, I should explain that the surgeon's office shares a wing with the Cancer Treatment Center at the hospital. Every time I go see him and am about to feel sorry for myself, I see those women and men and realize this ain't no thang.) As I was exiting and swirling in thought, a woman got on the elevator with me to go down to the lobby. She was the cancer patient I would want to be (if God forbid I ever had to be). She had a fabulous scarf covering her surely bald head and an amazing pair of dangly earrings--she looked beautiful. As she got on I totally had to compliment her scarf--it was gorgeous. So we had that brief elevator chat and then got quiet. And just as the doors had closed and the elevator began it's decent---SCREECH! CRANK! brakes. Yep, the elevator stopped.

Gorgeous Scarf (GS)looked at me, and asked did the elevator make that noise? Me: Yes, it's definately stopped. GS: Oh dear- should we call 911? Me: Um, I think we can call the elevator and they can give guidance. (So we called. They were sending help) Me looking at GS: "Um, seriously?" and cracking into a HUGE grin and just started laughing. We did not stop laughing for the full 45 minutes we were in the elevator.

She called her husband (he was downstairs) and offered to loan me her phone for my work call (I politely declined and thought this might be the best excuse to miss a call EVER!). We started to talk and just kept laughing at the situation we were in. Amoung the laughter, I leanred the CliffNotes version of her story. She is in her second round of chemo treatments for breast cancer. She is a mother of 2- 4-year-old twin boys that were born after her first diagnosis when she was 25. At 31, she is a mother and soon-to-be 2-time cancer survivor. Her name is Heather. And I spent an afternoon with her giggling in an elevator.

It was an everyday adventure. And today I learned that life can always be scarier than you think it is. That scary things really can bond you to someone else. And that laughter really does fix all things.

It was a good day. Who else would this happen to? Seriously.

An Apple a Day...

Be warned- This is not an adventure story or even an uplifting post- now you can't say I didn't warn you.

Over the course of the last few years, people I love and people they love are being diagnosed with all kinds of ailments that I match up with the 80-year-old set, not for folks in their 20s and 30s! What is wrong with us? we make jokes baout being in "homes' in our forties and having jazzies that are decorated within an inch of their lives, but it's really not funny. It's concerning.

There are all kinds of ideas out there about why. Microwaves, the use of plastic, the air, the environment, and on and on... but when the ailments vary and the people come from all over, there's no easy answer and no common denominator.

You may wonder what has set off this rather depressing mindset. Well, this is the month of surgeries. The HLP* is having surgery on Wednesday, her BF is likely having a surgery in the coming weeks, and I am scheduled for my jaw joints on Feb 14th. Not one of us is over the age of 35. It's depressing. We should all be out and about frolicking and living life to it's fullest, not talking about who is going to care for us, how much it is going to cost, and figuring out any long term worries, if any.

I just don't get it. Do we need to eat more apples?

(*HLP- Heterosexual Life Partner. This is what I jokingly refer to my friend since she is my buddy in life. It's just silly, but so true. She's there for me and me for her. She shares my random life joys (pictures of the loved munchkins), life's sadness, life's fristrations, and is my favorite dinner buddy. We could talk for hours or be quiet in the same space and either way it's the best conversation I'll have all week. She's the same as a Life Partner, just without the passion.)