These past weeks have been a true test of my limits, personally. In some ways, I am one of the lucky ones. I know how all of this started for me and I am able to trace where things went wrong. I do appreciate that; but I can’t spend my time focusing on the consequences of it or living in the “what ifs”/ “should have been’s”. It just doesn't matter. These past few weeks have been spent correcting the part of me that is under the illusion that I possess some measure of control over this.

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After meeting with my surgeon yesterday, I understand that I must lay down my arms and move ahead with the proposed treatment. Commit to it 100%. For those of you who don’t know, I suffer from multiple failed alloplastic implants resulting from a reaction to “Silastic” sheeting (silicone) implanted as an attempt to salvage my joint many years ago. They removed my 2nd prosthesis in March, as I have developed severe allergies to both the Cobalt Chromium Molybdenum (Co-Cr-MO) and Titanium (Ti), and filled the joint space with bone cement.

The plan is to grow a new joint through a process called “Distraction Osteogenesis”. Which is actually quite fascinating, and a little intimidating. I imagine I will look a bit like Frankenstein with pins through my cheeks, which will have to be turned daily to encourage the new bone growth. Sounds good until you look at the distraction devices themselves. They are metal, and I am allergic! Placing them will cause the foreign body giant cell reaction to potentially attack (eat away) the new bone growth, causing the procedure to fail before it ever really started.

With that in mind, they have decided to suppress my immune system through a weekly dose of Methotrexate. My veins are blown from all of the IV Vitamin “C”, so I will have a port implanted in my chest (which will be much easier on me in the end). I will admit I am being a great big baby about it. I am able to hide my TMJ’s deformity behind my hair… loosing it will be very traumatic. I will also be meeting with an orthopedic surgeon to remove the other metal (used to repair things after the accident) from the other parts of my body.

It’s a lot to process. I understand it is time for me to let the doctor’s do their thing. I will still play an active role, my surgeon wants me too, and for that I am very grateful. As patients, we know our bodies best. Trust your instincts and never give up hope!