A day from now, almost to the hour, I will start to count backwards from 10 to 1 - probably passing out at about 7 - in the OR of Klina, a nearby hospital. To cut a long and technical story short, my upper jaw will be placed forward for about 4mm correcting my life long underbite. Much to my own surprise the surgery itself will only take a mere 45 minutes, thanks to the meticulous preparation of both my orthodontist and surgeon. It is to be the “pièce de résistance” of the treatment I have been undergoing since July 8th of last year, which is the day a pair of lower and upper braces came on.
It has been a day I have looked forward to and dreaded at the same time practically for as long as I can remember. I was 11 when it started to become apparent that I wasn’t blessed with the worlds’ most aligned set of teeth, nor was it any worse than the average typical oral feature that makes puberty so interesting to look back upon.
But after having rightfully quit the wrong treatment at age 13, the whole I-should-deal-with-this turned into a mix of procrastination, frustration and self inflicted negligence.
During that period, the rather simple matter of correcting something crooked between the corners of my mouth moved two inches up and became something crooked between my ears, which made all the difference in the world.
Procrastination; Because there was always something imminently important getting in the way. No, that should be: there was always something I was able to think up and turn into an obstacle, an excuse why now was never the right moment. Soon you find your self in a place where every distraction seems like an opportunity.
Why frustration
Frustration; Because I was never to have a really great smile. Something I’ve always desired. So I started hiding my smile, my profile even. I a crowd I would place myself in such a way that the risk of people having to stand next to my - seeing me in profile - would be kept to an absolute minimum. Which brings me to...
Self inflicted negligence; because I became my own worst enemy. I don’t think there is anyone I know who ever made a painful remark about my teeth or jaw during my adult life. They didn’t need to. I “knew” they saw me that way and were just being polite not saying anything. Whenever someone talked to me and looked anywhere else but straight into my eyes, I “knew” what they were thinking.
A few months prior to the braces being placed, I couldn’t bring myself to talk about this, at all.
So I guess this here is the real question: Despite the underbite actually being there, despite the evident difference in the alignment of my teeth after one year of braces, the bulk of what is crooked, is not situated in my mouth. Knowing that, why do the surgery when the real problem is out of the surgeon’s reach?
Do I really think my life will magically change once the underbite is gone?
Am I not being utterly delusional believing that 45 minutes of surgery is going to straighten 25 years of negative self talk? Fair questions.
Prior to the braces I talked to the coach I worked with at the time, Dr. David DeHaven. I had told him the upcoming date of July 8th felt like a dam ready to break. I felt like a flood of tears was sitting there, waiting to break free and wash away all the hurt. Th only thing I was afraid of was that I would never ever stop crying once the braces were in.
He said: “And what if nothing happens?” You know what? Nothing happened.
Why? Because the braces weren’t able to set off, heal or provoke anything. They were just the next physical step of an ongoing mental process. They were placed as a result of me being ready for them. They were not in control. I was. I am.
The surgery isn’t going to heal the last 25 years. That’s not its function nor its goal. The surgery is the next physical step of an ongoing mental process. I’m having it done because I am ready for it.
See you on the other side of the anaesthesia.
Take care,
Karl
ps: pics and quite a bit of visual material following after the surgery!
