Unfiltered Story #268471

(I’m 16 at this point and I’ve been having orthodontic treatment for a couple of years to bring my teeth into alignment. The final stage of my treatment is to have my jaw broken and reset because unfortunately my lower jaw has developed too far forward. It’s purely a dental operation because currently my teeth will grind unevenly as I get older. I’m in the pre-surgery appointment by myself and this is the first time I’ve met the surgeon. He’s explained the procedure and looked at my X-rays)

Surgeon: Okay, so you understand everything?
Me: Yep!
Surgeon: Now, did you want us to do anything else while you’re under the anaesthetic?
Me: (confused) like what?
Surgeon: Well… Anything cosmetic?
Me: (laughs) I guess my nose is pretty big but I’m fine with it
Surgeon: No, no. Look. (Grabs mirror) Your chin is huge, we could really reduce the size of it.
Me: Oh… I don’t think that’s necessary, I like my chin…
Surgeon: No, it would look a lot better if we reduced the length. Take a look in the mirror, see how big it is. You’d look a lot prettier if we made it smaller
Me: I honestly don’t mind it…
Surgeon: I’d really recommend getting it done. It would look a lot prettier.
Me: (unsure, only 16 and not good at speaking up for herself) Well… I guess if it isn’t that much more of an operation…
Surgeon: No, you’ll be fine. Right I’ll put that in the notes and we’ll get that all fixed up for you.
Me: Okay… Um, well anyway, the thing I really wanted to get sorted was that I’m very needle phobic and I was told that I could just have anaesthetic gas rather than any injections. Is that right?
Surgeon: Yes, that’s in your notes
Me: Okay, great! Thanks

(The day of the surgery rolls around and I’m all prepped and on a hospital bed. They lower the mask over my mouth and I start going under. The anesthesiologist is at my side then suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my arm and immediately come back to full consciousness, see the needle and go into full panic mode, screaming, trying to get away from her etc. I’m restrained by 4 doctors/nurses as I sob in terror at what she’s doing. The needle has been pulled out and I’m semi aware that I’m bleeding badly. As I freaked out so much, they go back to the waiting room and make my mum sign my consent forms again, which she does only because she’s worried that if I don’t have the jaw op it’s really going to mess my teeth up and doesn’t know fully what happened. I’m then injected with what I later found was a dose for someone 3 times my size while restrained and the next thing I know I wake up in recovery. The first thing I see is the cannula in my hand and I panic again, tearing it out and making myself bleed)

Nurse: What is she doing?! What are you doing?!
My mum: (trying to calm me down) She’s needle phobic, it’s in her notes
Nurse: That’s not a real thing, she’s just trying to get attention

(She grabs my still bleeding hand to try to put another cannula in)

Me: Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t
Nurse: Stay still!
Me: No, no, no, please don’t
My mum: Don’t touch her. She’s awake, she doesn’t need any meds so the odds of using the cannula are low, please just leave her

(The nurse finally let’s go of me and storms off, huffing. The surgeon comes in about half an hour later holding a mirror)

Surgeon: You see! So much prettier!

(I look at my face in the mirror and sob. It’s bruised and swollen and I’m still on edge from everything that’s happened but mostly I’m crying because it isn’t my face anymore. It might have been an ugly face to him but I had never felt like that until now.)

Surgeon: (Taken aback by my reaction) What? What’s wrong? You look so much prettier now.

(Again staring at my bruised and swollen face, wondering how ugly he must have thought I was before this for this face to be better and I just cry more)

Me: (finally able to sadly whisper words out) I want my face back

(The surgeon marches off angrily while my mum tries to console me by saying it wouldn’t be that different after the swelling went down. Half an hour later, they suddenly discharge me and hurry me through dressing and collecting my things. I try to get up off the bed and my legs give way immediately. The nurse doesn’t suggest I wait more before being discharged, instead they find a wheelchair and I’m wheeled towards the exit. As we approach the exit doors, I slump forwards and fall out of the chair, hitting my head. An orderly helps my mum get me back into the chair and takes me back to the ward where they refuse to re-admit me as I regained consciousness while being wheeled over. Instead my mum is forced to make a second, this time successful, attempt to get me to the car. And that fiasco is how a 16 Yr old with no major issues about how she looked spent years getting over a new found hatred of her face and developed a more general phobia of hospitals and surgery. I was so anxious afterwards that I didn’t want to relive it by going through the complaints process. Thankfully a more recent emergency surgery had an anesthesiologist who fully explained what needles were necessary and when, knocked me out fully with gas and then made sure they were gone before I woke up.)