Inside: I was 17 when I had my wisdom teeth removed — and my body never fully recovered.
For years, I was told the swelling, locking, and pain in my jaw were “just stress.” It took nearly a decade to finally be diagnosed with a jawbone infection (osteomyelitis).
This post shares my 20+ year journey — the missed diagnosis, long-term treatment, ongoing flares, and how being dismissed shaped the way I now support women who know something isn’t right in their bodies.
I was 17 years old when I had my wisdom teeth removed.
It was supposed to be routine. A few swollen days. Some discomfort. Then back to normal.
Except my face never fully went back to normal.
Within weeks, I could feel something wasn’t right. The swelling lingered. My jaw ached in a way that felt deep, not surface-level. Every few months, I’d be hit with intense flares — weeks of pain so severe my jaw would lock, my neck and back would seize, and even talking felt exhausting.
I knew this wasn’t normal.
But no one else seemed to agree.
And even now, more than 20 years later, this history still affects my body. My symptoms have changed over time, and I’ve gained many answers, tools, and more confidence — but my story is not a neat “I got diagnosed and everything went away” kind of story.
“It’s just stress.”
That’s what I was told. Over and over again.
I went back to my dentist. Then a specialist. I explained the swelling. The flares. The pain that came in waves and then disappeared, only to return again.
They examined me and shook their heads.
No open wounds.
No pus.
No obvious signs of infection.
So, the conclusion was simple: I must be grinding my teeth.
I was given a night guard. Then another. Then another.
None of them helped.
Years passed. The flares kept coming. I kept showing up, asking questions, trying to explain what was happening in my body. Eventually, even my family started to doubt me. They told me I had to move on with my life. To stop using my jaw as a reason not to go out, not to date, not to live. But managing my condition while juggling full-time university classes and part-time work already felt exhausting.
I felt devastated. And very alone.
Part of me wondered if maybe they were right. Maybe I was anxious. Maybe I was doing this to myself.
And another part of me knew, just as strongly, that something was very wrong.
If you’ve ever been told your symptoms are “just stress,” you probably know that feeling too. The quiet tug-of-war between self-doubt and deep inner knowing.
When I finally got an answer
Eight years after my wisdom teeth removal, everything changed.
I had a boyfriend at the time, and he’d seen the flares up close. The swelling. The pain. The way my body shut down for weeks at a time. He came with me to my specialist appointment and insisted that they look deeper. That this wasn’t just stress.
That’s when they finally ordered a bone scan.
The result came back with a word I had never heard before: osteomyelitis.
Osteomyelitis is a chronic infection or inflammation of the bone. It can develop after surgery or trauma, and it doesn’t always show up with obvious external signs — especially in the jaw, where blood flow can be limited and symptoms can come and go [1]. Because bone has a more limited blood supply than many other tissues, infections can be harder to detect, harder to treat, and harder for medications to fully reach.
In other words, everything I had been experiencing suddenly made sense.
I felt relief and devastation at the same time.
Relief that I wasn’t imagining it.
Devastation that it had taken eight years — and a man in the room — for my pain to be taken seriously.
What a jawbone infection actually looks like
When people hear “jawbone infection,” they often imagine something visible or dramatic.
That wasn’t my experience at all. Sometimes the jaw swelling was visible, but most of my symptoms were internal.
My symptoms were subtle enough to be dismissed, yet severe enough to control my life.
Recurring jaw pain that flared for weeks.
Swelling that never fully resolved.
Jaw locking.
Deep neck and upper back pain.
Chronic muscle tension.
Crushing fatigue.
Socializing became complicated. Dating felt impossible. I couldn’t rock climb, paddle board, travel, or do many of the activities people bond over. Even when I wasn’t in an active flare, my body hurt too much on a daily basis to do much at all.
It was isolating in a way that’s hard to explain. Most people have never heard of osteomyelitis. They often couldn’t see it. And because I sometimes looked “fine,” it was easier for them to assume I was.
I heard every hurtful name in the book: you’re selfish, you’re boring, you’re a loser, you’re a freak… So it became easier to say goodbye than to disappoint yet another person, or try to convince someone who didn’t really care or understand.
Although it’s hard when people assume you’re fine (when you’re actually in a lot of pain), it’s even harder when they use that demeaning pity voice and talk down to you like a child. That’s probably the biggest reason why I never shared too much about my chronic illness in the past. When you have a chronic illness, you don’t want pity, you just want understanding.
How jawbone infections are diagnosed (and why mine was missed)
Jawbone infections are difficult to diagnose.
Blood work alone often isn’t enough. My labs — including markers of inflammation — were almost always considered “normal.” Even my iron levels, while sometimes low, didn’t raise red flags — something I now know is incredibly common and often missed.
I explain this more deeply in Iron Deficiency Without Anemia: Why You Feel Exhausted Even When Your Labs Look “Normal.”
What finally revealed the truth was imaging.
Bone scans.
White blood cell scans.
CT scans with contrast.
MRIs.
These tests can detect changes in the bone that routine exams and basic labs miss [2].
Once I was diagnosed, imaging became a yearly ritual. Every year, another scan. Another wait. Another attempt to see whether the infection was improving or spreading.
For years, my life revolved around those results.
What long-term treatment really looked like: IVs, hospital visits, PICC lines and way too many antibiotics.
Treatment — and the toll it took
Once the diagnosis was made, treatment was aggressive.
I underwent two jaw surgeries where infected and damaged bone was scraped and removed. Those surgeries were necessary, but they also changed the landscape of my jaw. After years of delayed diagnosis, poor blood flow in the bone, and bone removal, I became more susceptible to future flares and possible reinfection. That part has been one of the hardest pieces to accept.
I also spent two summers in hyperbaric oxygen therapy at Vancouver General Hospital.
I was on antibiotics — both IV and oral — for over a decade.
I also tried laser therapy daily at home using infrared and red light. Laser therapy did help with pain and eventually some inflammation, so it’s still something I recommend. I also explored physical therapy and acupuncture. They only helped temporarily. Nothing brought lasting relief.
What no one prepared me for was how much this would affect the rest of my body.
Years of antibiotics stripped my gut. My digestion worsened. Food reactions appeared. Sugar cravings intensified. Fatigue became constant. I wrote in more detail about how long-term antibiotics affected my microbiome — and what actually helped rebuild it — in How to Restore Gut Bacteria After Antibiotics: My 20-Year Recovery Story (and What Actually Works).
I missed work. Took leaves. Pushed myself to keep going even as my capacity shrank.
I survived. But I wasn’t living.
When the scans were more stable — but I still wasn’t well
In early 2023, my scan looked much more reassuring than it had in the past.
The active infection appeared to be under better control.
But that didn’t mean my body was suddenly fine.
I was still having flares. Still exhausted. Still inflamed. Still dealing with the after-effects of years of infection, antibiotics, stress, disrupted sleep, and a body that had spent far too long in survival mode.
That’s when I began asking a new question.
What happens when the scan looks better, but your body still doesn’t feel well?
What about my body that’s been living in survival mode for years?
Before I could fully explore those answers, my dad became sick with cancer. My focus shifted completely. He passed away in late 2023.
That loss changed everything.
I remember asking myself, very quietly:
Am I going to settle for surviving — or am I going to keep reaching for a fuller life?
Beach walks are part of how I support my nervous system. One calming step at a time.
What I learned when I stopped accepting “normal”
That’s when I turned to studying functional nutrition, functional testing, and began getting more comprehensive testing done on myself.
Not because I thought it would necessarily resolve all my symptoms.
But because I needed to understand why my body was still struggling, even after years of treatment.
What I discovered was eye-opening.
Gut dysbiosis.
Yeast overgrowth.
Gluten sensitivity.
Low vitamin D.
Low transferrin — the protein that transports iron through the body.
Sleep apnea, despite being “low risk.”
MTHFR and COMT gene variants affecting nutrient processing and estrogen clearance.
None of these showed up clearly in conventional testing. But together, they helped explain so much.
My symptoms weren’t all in my head. They were real. Measurable. Connected.
As I began nourishing my gut, supporting my nervous system, and rebuilding with food instead of fighting my body, some things slowly started to shift.
I had more context. More tools. More confidence. My digestion made more sense. My energy became less confusing. And I finally started to understand that my symptoms were connected — not random, and not “all in my head.”
My body still needs ongoing support, and I still experience flares. But I no longer see those flares as personal failure. I see them as information — and as a reminder of why early answers, proper testing, and being believed matter so much.
Why I do this work now
A jawbone infection shaped my life, my health, my work capacity, and the way I see women’s health. But it also taught me something powerful.
Because my diagnosis was delayed for eight years, I lost time, confidence, opportunities, and trust in my own body. I can’t go back and change that part of my story, but I can use it as fuel for the work I do now.
That is part of why I care so deeply about helping women get answers sooner, understand their labs and symptoms more clearly, and feel less dismissed when they know something isn’t right.
In my small way, this is how I hope to help close the women’s health gap: by listening carefully, looking deeper, and helping women feel more prepared to advocate for themselves.
Low energy, brain fog, or feeling run-down can be signs your iron needs support. This free guide and meal plan shares simple, food-first ways to support iron intake, absorption, and steadier energy naturally.
You don’t have to do this alone.
Free Resources
If you’re looking for gentle places to start, I’ve created these free guides inside my Calm & Clear Freebies Library:
- 5 Hacks to Stop Sugar Cravings Fast
- 5 Ways to Supercharge Your Gut Health
- 5 Ways to Support Iron Levels Naturally
- 7-Day Iron Supportive Meal Plan
- 5 Ways to Calm Your Nervous System
Deeper Support
If your nervous system has been living in fight-or-flight for years, my Nervous System Reset Guide + Digital Bundle offers a structured, calming next step.
It’s $17 — or $9 when you join my email list.
Personalized Support
And if you’re ready for deeper, personalized care, my 1:1 program, The Calm & Clear Method is designed to help you better understand your symptoms, support digestion, calm stress patterns, reduce cravings, support iron levels, and build steadier energy with a plan that fits your real life.
You can also watch my free 15-minute mini masterclass on The Calm & Clear Method on my Work With Me page if you prefer to watch instead of read.
I hope this post encourages you to keep advocating for your health — even when it’s exhausting — because you are stronger than you think.
Progress is possible.
More clarity is possible.
And you deserve to be listened to.
If you’d like to stay connected, I share gentle, practical education and reflections on social — including Instagram and Facebook.
Be well,
Alysha Breanne
@alyshabwellness
Bonus: Free Holiday Dessert Recipe Book (35 Festive Treats!)
Want a delicious 36-page Holiday Dessert Recipe Book?
I’ve added it to my Calm & Clear Freebie Vault for my email subscribers…because nutritionists aren’t just about eating salads. We splurge too — especially this time of year.
This festive recipe book includes 35 delicious holiday desserts — all simple, comforting and perfect for gifting, gatherings, or cozy nights in.
A few treats you’ll see inside:
• Pumpkin Peanut Butter Cups
• Pecan Pie Squares
• Maple Cashew Chocolate Fudge
• Peppermint Mocha
If you’re already subscribed, you’ll find it inside the Calm & Clear Freebie Vault. Weekly emails go out on Wednesdays.
Not on the list yet? Join here so you don’t miss it — or any of my other tips, tools, and freebies.
More Wellness Reads:
Alysha Breanne, CHN, CFNP — Certified Holistic and Functional Nutritionist helping women with iron deficiency, low ferritin, fatigue, and absorption issues restore steady energy using personalized nutrition and testing when needed.