Meet the OhMyJawraffe

Giraffes don’t just chew—they ruminate. Their jaws grind constantly, handling fibrous leaves with a bite pattern so complex it puts most dentists to shame.

Sound familiar? TMJ patients know that chewing isn’t just about food—it’s biomechanics, it’s inflammation, it’s pain.

Giraffes use their tongue, lips, and jaw like a team. TMJ patients do too—except our MVPs are heat packs and smoothies.

That iconic giraffe neck? It’s made up of seven massive vertebrae—the same number as humans—but each one stretches over ten inches long. The weight it carries? About 600 pounds.

TMJ patients may not be hauling six feet of spinal column, but the metaphor is there: we carry invisible weight every day. Pain. Tension. Exhaustion.

Giraffes stretch up high—but they still feel every ounce of pressure at the base.

That iconic giraffe neck? It’s made up of seven massive vertebrae—the same number as humans—but each one stretches over ten inches long. The weight it carries? About 600 pounds.

TMJ patients may not be hauling six feet of spinal column, but the metaphor is there: we carry invisible weight every day. Pain. Tension. Exhaustion.

Giraffes stretch up high—but they still feel every ounce of pressure at the base.

Ever seen a giraffe walk? Their gait is called pacing—both legs on one side move in sync. It’s graceful, strange, and totally different from most mammals.

Now here’s the jaw-drop moment: your TMJs work the same way. They’re a matched set.

When one joint moves, the other has to follow. No independence, just forced cooperation—like synchronized swimmers… or your hinge joints on a bad jaw day.