About a month ago, my jaw started giving me problems–more than usual. I have had TMJ (now called TMD) since I was a teenager. I’m really careful about what and how I chew (no gum, etc.), and while I don’t usually grind my teeth in the daytime, I definitely do at night. Night guards sometimes make this worse.
My teeth: There’s something in here! Fuck! Let’s grind whatever’s keeping us apart to dust!
The muscle tension keeps pulling me out of alignment, and I keep having my massage therapist and chiropractor line me back up again, but the pain got so bad. I can feel the muscle tension on my jaw’s right side pulling my lips, my eyes, my cheek bone.
My right side has TMJ and arthritis: overachieving in terrible ways.
I remembered that I had terrible TMJ pain the last time a wisdom tooth came in, and so I found myself at the dentist’s office this week. My one remaining wisdom tooth is just hanging out, we found.
My dentist, feeling my jaw from the inside: “Yeah, this is your TMJ–you’re insanely tight.”
He said I needed Botox in my jaw, stat.
I’m supposed to get Botox in my jaw every three months, actually. It’s just that my neurologist, who administers it, is usually booked up so much that it’s four-five months between visits.
This time, I haven’t seen him since early November. I’m not on his calendar again until August. (In addition to his having too many of us to see, he had some kind of injury a few months ago that meant we all got our appointments cancelled.)
I’m leaving to teach overseas in three weeks. My dentist and I weren’t keen on me going to a beauty place for help: they’re notorious for not having actual training and not using actual Botox. He thought one of my neurologist’s peers should help. UCD didn’t seem to think so.
Luckily, my work wife told me last night that Planned Parenthood does Botox now, at a lower cost than the beauty places.
Oh, Planned Parenthood, who did so much for me back when I didn’t have insurance, whom I still donate to monthly.
I’m thankful that it was there for me, but it shouldn’t have to be. UCD pays thousands of dollars for my insurance each month. I pay a couple hundred.
My copay for my Botox treatment at my neurologist’s office is usually $30. (Some years, it’s been $100.)
I got in to Planned Parenthood today; I took my doctor’s clinical notes, so we knew how much to try and where. I’m hoping it does something (it takes days to weeks to kick in & sometimes doesn’t kick in).
I put almost six hundred dollars of hope on a credit card today.
