Alisha

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Jan. 6, 2004

Of all the things that I have experienced in seventeen years of life, none has been more meaningful than my jaw problems. Since 2000, I have been heavily medicated (seven medications, seventeen pills a day) for pain caused by my jaw. Officially, the complications of it are listed as TMJ or TMD. The right side of my lower jawbone is shorter than the left, the right joint disc has slipped out of place, and my bite is off—these being the main corporate for my pain. Most people who have TMJ usually experience mild to moderate pain, but with splint therapy and medications like Vioxx, the pain stops. I, unfortunately, suffer from severe pain that has not left me in four years of suffering; only after having surgery will I find relief I have told by my doctors.

Quite obviously, the discomfort that I experience, though it’s more control now than it was in 2000 due to my medications, has had a drastic effect on my life. There are many restrictions that I have to adhere to reduce the amount of hurting. Such restrictions are limited talking, laughing, and smiling, a soft food diet, and avoiding all sports, which may prove hazardous to my jaw (soccer, tennis, etc). These things are not nearly as hard to deal with as the side effects of my medications. I feel as though I am walking in a fog, which is caused by the muscle relaxant I take; it also causes me to feel fatigued, as does another medication of mine, Neurontin. In order to focus and not feel so tired, I have to take Adderall twice a day, a medication that is usually prescribed to people with ADHD.

This experience, which is in no way over, has been meaningful to me simply because it is my life. I have had to learn how to deal with the side effects and limitations imposed on me because of my jaw. It is now apparent that even though I am a smart and driven girl, it is increasingly difficult to focus and find the energy needed to make straight A’s. My medications leave me feeling spacey and my pain makes me feel physically tired by it; pain does that. I can and will succeed that much I intend to do, but it will take more effort from me than most others who have applied to your fine institution. I have had four years of preparation for just that kind of challenge.

September 10, 2003
As sad as it is to say this, as much as I do not want to admit it, there is a part of me that is feeling depressed. The reason for this bit of depression (which never really went away, just subsided by quite a bit) is my jaw. Not only has it been hurting like hell, but also my craving for my medication is getting worse. I cannot function like this. I do not even feel human sometimes; mostly, I just feel like a drugged up zombie walking around, hardly ever responding to the situations that surround me, and always feeling so tired and unfocused.

Being tired is my constant state of mind whenever I am in school. Being able to sleep is easier now since Remeron aids me. The hard part is finding the time to sleep. I spend so much time being spaced out (I blame this on a lack of Adderall to help me focus at night, being sleepy from a combination of medications and very little sleep earlier in the week, and my own inability of forcing myself to be alert). It is just so hard. Most of the time, I do not even know how to deal with my feelings.
My mom does not understand. She thinks that I purposely forget the things she tells me (when I really do not; I try to absorb the information she gives me, but my brain refuses to accept and remember it). Most of the time she ends up being totally frustrated by my indifference (how else am I suppose to feel when I'm half out of it?) and tells me about what a sorry person I am, how I'm going to end up like my dad, etc. I do not think she knows how those sorts of things just make me feel worse, and I don't think she would care if she did.

I have been eating less. The upside is that I have lost about five pounds. However, the down side is that my stomach is so upset from (mostly) consuming nothing but pills and water. I switched things up a bit this morning and drank a glass of milk with my pills, hoping that the milk would coat my stomach some. To chew food is to invoke the wrath of my jaw. It is not a pretty sight (and it's an even less pleasant feeling). I tried eating a bit of rice last night. I got about three bites down and then stopped. Pain will make the appetite decrease, and this pain is only getting worse.

My mornings are not so bad. In fact, they are the best part of the day. When I wake up, my jaw hurts, but after my medicines kick in, I feel okay. With sleep comes a bit of a rest for my jaw, so it does not feel so wore out in the a.m. After lunch, my jaw begins to hurt a little worse. I usually only eat a sandwich and maybe some cookies for lunch. It is not the chewing of the food that makes up the greater percentage of my pain—it is just the overall usage of it. It is like a build up kind of thing. Then, by the afternoon (between 4-6), I do nothing but crave my medicine. Often enough, I find myself shaking from the pain. Once I take my medicine (at 6), my jaw calms down, but not by much. If I had another dose of Adderall (at 6), it would help my concentration. I am sure of that. I have to try having my homework finished before 10 p.m., because that is about the time I start craving my medicine, again.

Dr. W the First—a surgeon that Dr. W the Second was suppose to refer me to—is the same doctor that I saw back in 2000 when my jaw first went crazy. She is the same doctor who did not believe that I had pain as severely as I did (and still do). Her office called the house yesterday, leaving a message on the answering machine to call them in reference to the approved referral I got for her, since they were unaware of my reasoning for returning. My mom called them back. The receptionist told mama that they would get back with us, probably sometime next week, after a discussion with Dr. W the First as to whether she will pick me back up as a patient.

That really did not help this helpless, pointless, and general crappy feeling I have got. Really, I think that news alone was the entire reasoning behind me finally breaking down for that cry. Usually, crying helps one feel better. I felt a little relief, but not much.

I am just so tired of hurting. It is this constant state of pain that makes life so difficult to deal with. I am seventeen years old! I am not supposed to be so messed up.

However, I am. And that is one very sad fact.