My puzzle binge is finally winding down as I complete my fifth and final jigsaw, this one made by a company named in my honor.
The fun never stops around here. Yesterday it was another appointment with the periodontist who did her usual thing of poking my face with pointed metal tools to test my numbness, five weeks in. The good thing: As before, I was able to feel it some. The bad thing: I was able to feel it some. Today I drove to South Sacramento to see the maxillofacial specialist. He poked my face with pointed metal tools to test my numbness, and told me what I already knew: that the nerve had not been severed, as evidenced by the fact that I do have limited sensation in my chin. Thus, there’s a chance of recovery within the next twelve months, and—hooray—surgery is not recommended. He posits that the injury resulted either from the drill hitting the nerve directly (I doubt that) or compressing the tissue just above it. As I understand it, the dark black circular area under the implant is the nerve canal. (The implant is long gone now, of course.)
I asked this new doc a bunch of questions, like: Will this happen again when the new, smaller implants go in? (Possibly, but that’s not his domain.) Is that electrical jolt that zaps down through my chin when I eat and open my mouth a good sign or a bad sign? (It could be either. Wait and see.) What can be done if I don’t regain sensation within a year? (Nothing. Deal with it.) His prognosis: “Good, but guarded.”
My periodontist (of whom I’ve grown fonder over our frequent tender moments together) had sent my expensive CT scans to the people at Kaiser, who were unable to open the digital files, so I had to drop another $200 for a new set. When I saw my resulting portrait (which I learned I wasn’t allowed to take a picture of, for some reason), it made me want to burst into song: I feel pretty! Oh, so pretty!
Actually, I have to say this creeps me out. Here, is this less scary?
Ooops. Never mind. No wonder I have nightmares. Tell you what: I won’t leave you with that image. Instead, here’s a recent visitor to my driveway. (My security cameras continue to provide entertainment.)
Better news than surgery, I guess?! That makes me happy. I hope it does you, too.
I also hope you get more opossum visitors, and then the big old mama has babies under your house, and those babies have babies, because then I have my opo fix at my fingertips.
I’ve set your portrait as my new screensaver. It gives me warm fuzzies. And if anyone ever asks I will proudly say “those are my mommy’s skull bones!” Your eyes look even prettier against that backdrop.
Well — three cheers for no surgery needed!! But — YIKES! — a lot of “maybe’s” and “wait-and-see’s: Knowing you, you’ll soldier through it– and my strong feeling is that — in time — it will heal. Again — YOKES!!! (Ernie)
Whew! Glad that no surgery is recommended. You’ve got enough mouth trauma in your future as is!
What a very fetching skull.