Mandibular Hypoplasia, Pt I

So. This is a little story about a condition called mandibular hypoplasia. We'll call it MH. When I was a tiny girl, I had a normal face. At one point, both of my jaws were growing together in harmony. Then something happened. My lower jaw [the mandible] got tired and stopped growing. However, my upper jaw was still going strong. When my upper jaw stopped growing, my bite was still off and there was a huge gap between my front upper teeth and my front lower teeth. Unfortunately, my orthodontist could do nothing about it. My teeth were as fixed as they were going to get with braces.

I had to have surgery.

It took seven months to get the surgery scheduled. In this story, the insurance company is the bad guy [booo!]. Anyway, after getting denied several times we just said oh well and did the surgery anyway. So, we went to the hospital at 5:30 in the morning. I changed into that weird paper gown and nearly froze to death while waiting to be pushed to the operating room.
At this point, MH began to get very scared. He wasn't going to last much longer!
The first anesthesiologist [haha! SCORE! Spelled that right on the first try..] was kind of odd. She asked me the same questions I'd already been asked at least two times that morning [is my name spelled correctly on my arm band? is my birth date correct on my arm band? had I eaten anything past midnight? had anything to drink past midnight? had I ever had a known reaction to anesthetic? was I allergic to any medicines? was I currently taking a daily medicine? do I know what surgery I'm going in for? etc, etc, etc.]

A different nurse came in to start my IV. My mom had to leave the room while she was sticking me. It actually wasn't bad at all. She found a vein, gave me a shot to numb the area, and I hardly felt a pinch at all. Though the saline solution they ran through my veins made me even colder for a bit.
This nurse repeated the questions the first lady had asked. Then she left.
Finally, my surgeon showed up, as well as a very pretty anesthesiologist. I bet she wasn't any older than 26-27. They repeated the questions AGAIN [what is this, now? 5 times?] and had to make an addition to the paperwork to state that they were going to, indeed, take out my upper wisdom teeth as well. [Double whammy! My lower wisdom teeth were taken out over a year ago.]

My surgeon is a very nice man. He's a great Christian and very nice. However, at that moment, while I was laying on the little gurney bed trying not to freeze or have a nervous breakdown [I wasn't scared of the surgery. I was nervous about waking up after the surgery. Pssh. Who cares what they do to me while I'm passed out under anesthetic?!] I wasn't too fond of my very nice, smiling surgeon.

And the pretty anesthesiologist made me spray nasal saline solution up my nose, which choked me when it went down my throat. [And believe me, if I'm bothered by a nasal spray, its bad. I used to take a nasal spray daily for my allergies.] But she apologised. So I forgave her.
Then they stole my glasses so I couldn't see, gave them to my parents, and wheeled me down to the operating room.
Next installment coming soon. :) haha. I know y'all are just waiting on the edges of your seats!
Tina