I went from sleep apnea to total jaw dysfunction in six years — can't eat solid food anymore.

Of the limited options to treat sleep apnea, I chose surgery. In 2019, I underwent what should have been a routine genioplasty: move chin forward, open up airway. Implants were used to preserve facial harmony.

And my sleep apnea WAS corrected. No more jolting awake in the middle of the night to take a breath. No more buzzsaw snoring. But this all came at a serious cost.

My hotshot doc let his skill swell into cavalier negligence. How? For jawbone work, eyes and nose bridge are used to determine midline (imaginary vertical plane that divides the skull into left/right halves), and verified at the chin. He skipped that last crucial step — assuming my skull was symmetrical.

As fate would have it, my skull is not symmetrical. In fact, it's curved quite similarly to Bradley Cooper's. Unfortunately, I didn't get his acting career. Doctor Frankenstein (that's how I'll always remember him) ignored my radical asymmetry, and so the nightmare began.

At first it was subtle: biting my cheek while eating, a strange new pocket in my left gumline crease. My concerns: dismissed. But by 6 months, it was undeniable: my chin had been moved 4 cm to my right. After a minor failed revision attempt, Doctor Frankenstein cut ties.

COVID shutdowns froze my status. During this imposed idle time, my jawbone remodeled itself around the damage, making restoration a Rubik's cube.

When the world reopened, I was desperate — and landed in the hands of Doctor Doom. Reverse genioplasty was no longer feasible. Plan B: remove 30 mm of bone right side; use implant to fill deficient left.

The first of seven surgeries resulted in 3 mm of bone taken off the right instead of 30; hardly a drop in the bucket. As multiple implants came and went due to numerous infections, he ultimately removed 15 mm at best. This shortfall became my ticking time bomb.

My life had now been reduced to work, sleep, pay for surgery. No end in sight.

By 2022, I had over 2 dozen infections on top of countless rounds of antibiotics; prescribed like candy until my immune system was toast.

Then MRSA hit. I had sworn off all antibiotics by this point, and was advised that I could die without them. Against the ropes, I went into a 45-day fast and beat the MRSA, but I became skin and bones dropping 50 pounds.

Stuck drinking liquified salmon through a straw, my weight returned. After a 7th surgery, I parted ways with Doctor Doom; chin now halfway back to center, chin muscle severely crooked, and face attached to jaw one inch down.

N

othing but mushy food and liquids from this point forward.

My life had turned into its own ghost town. I couldn't bear for anyone to see what had become of me.

Remember that deep pocket at my gumline crease? That tissue was stretched and porous. All caloric intake was dumping bacteria into my bloodstream at that spot. Hence the countless infections, including 2023 MRSA. Again. This time with a vengeance.

Osteomyelitis. Not just tissue; skull now infected. I was turned down by surgeon after surgeon and along the way advised that without hospitalization, I had as little as 2 weeks left to live.

Late-night internet surfing would yield an extreme and controversial homeopathic protocol. I beat MRSA again; but my face was left in shambles.

At rock bottom, a light came in the darkness. A surgeon who actually cares, a true godsend. Initial stages would see all of my soft tissue put back where it goes.

I’d eventually come to learn that my pathologic hyperplasia — continuously compounding bone — is unprecedented. Chaotic bone growth should stop well within 3 years; mine is still going 6 years in, triggered by a perpetual gum leak that is telling my jaw to keep growing sideways.

A vicious cycle, as each problem fuels the other. Leaving this alone could be fatal.

Last month, I was sent a third reconstruction implant design for review — but something still seemed off. I decided to run the design through ChatGPT, and it estimated a 60% chance of recovery based on my latest X-ray. And then it hit me: What if I asked ChatGPT for the dimensions instead??

I loaded over 50 images — CTs, X-rays, the works — for pinpoint analysis down to the decimal: exactly where to cut, exactly where to add. I now have a 97% chance of recovery.

My case could become a novel part of medical history — the first full recovery led by a patient using AI.

I am fighting for my life. I want to eat normal food again. I feel like the crew on the ship in The Matrix, confined to a bowl and a spoon.

This upcoming urgent surgery serves to remove the unrelenting bone overgrowth on my chin and my right jaw that's compressing a key nerve (the result of not removing all 30 mm of bone years prior), while restoring balance to my collapsed left jaw.

This is my best hope to go from my Nutribullet back to holding a fork, ending infections, and rejoin the world. Over 20 surgeries in, this has completely drained me to the tune of $250,000. I’ve sacrificed everything. This fundraiser is my last hope — to cover surgery costs and keep me moving forward.

I haven't smiled at a stranger in 6 years. Your gift isn't just surgery. It's my dignity. It could even save my life.

Anything you can donate would mean the world to me. If you can’t donate, please share my story. I’ve documented my entire journey through photos and videos.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for believing that healing is possible.