Chinderella – it’s an orthognathic fairytale, you see.

June 14, 2008

Maybe in a chipmunk beauty pageant, I’d win. Otherwise, no.

Filed under: Uncategorized — chinderella @ 3:43 pm
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Monday night

Reclined in my comfy hospital chair, I try and look nonchalant; for this was My Last Solid Meal. James and my mum (henceforth known as ‘Support Team’) stay for the feast and moral support. I understand why most people make jokes about hospital food. Later on in the evening, there will be Drugs. Til then, I consider running away. Telling them I have an urgent appointment somewhere, then decide it’d be puny and unworthy of me. I smell the bethadine I’ll have to shower with. My Support Team leaves to go and have a beer somewhere. (I hope.) I cry a little. The hospital bed scares me. Then Xanax takes me in his arms and I float away…


And just for you, blogfolks, this is the vision I’ve carefully been avoiding all those years in the bathroom mirror. Even with the braces on the top teeth, which make me pout, the maxillary is clearly not where it should be. What happened? My mum blames herself.

Actually, I don’t even look too bad on these pictures. The reality is far worse.

I don’t look very friendly, do I. But I have GREAT potential.

I do look worried, because I am; this is the last time I’ll be looking like this; hope they don’t saw me back up the wrong way.


I am awake around 6am, strangely calm, thank you Xanax! I shower ( I think), climb back into bed and a nice guy comes in, smiles at me and puts a ‘joli chapeau’ (nice hat) on my head. He wheels me out of the room, into the elevator, down four flights; I wave at everyone we meet on the way, in a spirit of community and because i’m high. I plan to high five the surgeon when he comes in and make ultimate recommendations/small talk, but as it happens I won’t get to do that.. a nice lady smiles at me from above, asks me to hoist myself across onto an operating table ( and I don’t even freak out) and clamps something onto my finger, breathe, she says, it’s going to


I can feel that my right nostril is bleeding so I wipe it with my hand. A man is moaning repeatedly somewhere : I‘m in pain, I’m in pain; I’m in pain, I’m in pain. It can’t be Hell, because I’ve done nothing that bad; a nurse is saying to him : you’re not alone in here, stop moaning. I’m not in hell, perhaps he is, though. I can feel the bed moving, I think we’re in the lift, into my room. I hear ‘here she is’ and I wave at my Support Team.

I think I ask for a mirror. I wipe a lot of blood off my face. I think I look cool. Everything else I’ve forgotten. See the little inkwells attached to my chin? James felt faint when the nurse emptied them of blood. I would have too.

Last thing: I look infinitely better than I feel.


I want to die; I wish they would just cut off my head already so that it could be over and done with. I don’t look a tenth of how crap I feel. Thankfully the nurses are cool, no-one laughs at me, and the drugs keep coming. On Thursday with the first stomach cramps- a girl can only live so long on her own digested blood- I make the acquaintance of Stanislas the Big Syringe.

See us posing together? Stanislas is saving my life throughout the day. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to eat.


Hello, yellow monster.

Maybe in a chipmunk beauty pageant, I’d win. Otherwise, no.

This is my latest, blogvolk; I’ve checked out this morning and staying in a flat for a couple days before being driven home on Monday after my appointment with my surgeon. In the meantime, I promise to stay away from little children.



  1. Thanks for sharing your surgery details with us.

    Here’s to you progressing well and your comfort levels improving quickly.

    Take care and continue enjoying Stanislas!

    Comment by Karen — June 15, 2008 @ 1:50 pm | Reply

  2. So good to see you “back from beyond” Loved reading the stream of thought…especially how well the Xanax worked 🙂

    Hope you get some rest before heading for home on Monday, and that your recovery goes smoothly and without incident. The scary part is behind, now for the ‘patience; one-day-at-a-time’ phase.

    Take care, Chinderella (no more), and will be rooting for you 🙂

    Comment by Katherine — June 15, 2008 @ 1:50 pm | Reply

  3. […] more tales of vomiting blood! Gone are the days of incessant nosebleeds, the nights of dreaming about being beheaded! What a […]

    Pingback by Chinderella - it’s an orthognathic fairytale, you see. — August 24, 2008 @ 8:06 am | Reply

  4. Great blog! Very funny stuff and exactly what I need as my surgery is 8 short days away. I’m keeping a blog on jaw surgery and a natural approach to pre-op and post-op (not to mention other health stuff), and I’d love if you’d put me on your blogroll. There’s tons of material here, so I’ll be reading your stuff for awhile… Congrats and thanks for sharing.

    Comment by susanfsu — October 28, 2008 @ 3:37 am | Reply

  5. Susan – thank you. Would love to put you on my blogroll, what’s the url though?
    And, most importantly,
    GOOD LUCK!!!! for the upcoming surgery.

    Comment by mylene — October 29, 2008 @ 12:02 pm | Reply

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