Pop rocks at 4 months

I used a new description to describe to a coworker what my mouth feels like - periods of non-improvement followed, almost out of the blue, by a feeling like I've got Pop Rocks. Those are nerve endings being rejuvenated, I'm told. Look, at this point, as odd a sensation as this is, I'll take progress in whatever shape or form it occurs. I still feel like I'm at 85% of where I was, and it just requires more patience to endure the run to the finish line.

Numbness is more than skin deep

One of the lingering issues of paresthesia, many sufferers will discover, is that what appears to be a cure is a wolf in sheep's clothing. I felt just about sharp point as the dentist took a tour around my tongue, ascertaining what I could feel. That is great news - proof that the recovery is occurring to those delicate nerves. I explained to the dentist that the paralysis still is evident when I try to speak certain words (there's an obvious impediment) and I still can't taste every food item 100% as there is still a feeling like I'm chewing on rubber bands. The next appointment is now 8 weeks away and he expects significant recovery by then. I'm amazed at my own patience level, about to celebrate my THIRD MONTH with this pain-in-the-ass-condition that I did not cause.

Tongue-tied

On a recent (August 12) Sunday afternoon, I gave a toast to my longtime friend, Barry, inside an enclosed reception hall built atop a large fishing pier in Kitty Hawk, N.C. The toast was in front of 80 people and I delivered it with aplomb only because the DJ handed me a microphone that allowed me to speak in a normal voice. Any scenario where I have to project my voice, unaided by technology, still proves difficult, because I lack the specific muscle strength in my mouth that leads to clear-sounding speech. In other words, precision deteriorates when I have to "speak up." The sensation on the top of my tongue has returned, however, it feels "marbled" and feels about 80% of normal ability. The side and bottom of my tongue is about 60% and I have no feeling in the right bottom of my mouth. I can only hope it will come back.

Still very frustrated. Still very annoyed at the dentist, and wondering whether the time for litigation is close at hand, given the worry I have about a permanent speaking disability.

Nine weeks - a setback

I can deal with the ups and downs of paresthesia as long as I can sense improvement. But today my day began with more annoying "ice" sensation on the right side of my tongue, and an inability to correctly pronounce many words without lisping. This is a disappointment as it comes nine weeks to the day since the dentist nailed me with the needle, causing the paralysis. Now, this time around at least the tongue has some sensation beyond the feeling of cold. It was crazy that I couldn't even tell I had a tongue in prior weeks when this has occurred. So it goes.

"Patience"

Saw the dentist for treatment today. His forecast of recovery of 4 to 6 weeks (which later became 6 to 8 weeks) was incorrect, but diagnosing paresthesia is not an exact science. At least he is being gracious about it, and not charging for the follow-up visits. He prescribed "patience" as the nerve heals VERY slowly, about the width of a single tine on a comb. He said he sees progress to the point where we'll now meet every 3 weeks, instead of 2.

Sandpaper at Week 7

I can "feel" recovery, but it's taking its sweet time getting here, and it hurts. I finally gained some sensation on the right edge and top of my tongue. But that sensation amounts to a feeling that there's a layer of sandpaper or roof shingle. Not sure why that is - perhaps it's part of the healing process? I still have what feels like deeper-layer numbness, and it is still impacting my ability to project my voice when I talk.

Week 6

So I hit a milestone today: Six weeks ago, the dentist whose needle into the back of my mouth caused this paresthesia said I would return to normalcy in the 6-to-8-week window. But I'm far from recovered and, in fact, it's still impossible to communicate clearly to others, especially on the phone. Being limited in your speech has taken its toll on my mindset. I continue to be social, but when I join coworkers for lunch I keep my mouth shut. My words can't keep up with the conversation at the table. It's frustrating. And, every day where I feel some progress, the next day I experience a regression.