This whole Ugly Betty adult braces thing is seriously cramping my style. It’s been a couple months since these god awful contraptions have been affixed to my wayward teeth and not a day goes by without me cursing them to hell. Earlier today I managed to spill a soft drink all over my cute outfit and had to spend the rest of the day walking around in my stain soaked and now not so delightful fashion statement. Then over lunch time a piece of food got stuck in my braces that I, as of yet, still have not been able to dislodge. Rather glum and reflecting back on my day I can’t help but be reminded why I hate my adult braces.
Having had my braces now for seven months, one would think that I would be quite use to them by now. Well, one would think wrong! I do not think you ever quite get use to wires and brackets in your mouth that’s systematically moving your teeth and grating away the insides of your mouth. You also never quite get use to food that’s forever lodged in between your teeth concealed by metal in impossible angels that not even the best contortionist with the most modern of orthodontic tools would be able to dislodge. You also never quite get use to the idea of speaking with a lisp that you never had before. A lisp that you now have because foreign objects in your mouth are preventing you from enunciating your words properly. You also never quite get use to having your lips caught in your wires during important meetings and then desperately trying to discreetly extricate them without causing yourself significant embarrassment. No, seven months on and I am NOT used to my braces. But the day-to-day gripe of having adult braces being as bad as it is, it is only surpassed by one thing - those damn orthodontist visits.
For some inexplicable reason I always seem to suffer some injury, ailment or embarrassment just prior to my appointments. During the last seven months I had surgery, an eye infection, had a nose injury and accidentally poisoned myself, all just days prior to my orthodontist appointments. Needless to say pitching up for my appointments with some disfiguring injury and/or ailment must have had my orthodontist and her assistants seriously wondering what I do for a living and whether my job is dangerous. But being the consummate professionals they are, they have never once asked me and I have never volunteered any explanations. Injuries and ailments aside the visits to the orthodontist are unpleasant in itself and for those of you who dislikes dentists I recommend you skip the following paragraph.
Have you ever heard of inter-dental scrapping? No? Well then let me explain. In the past several months I had the misfortune of experiencing that nasty procedure three times. Three times! It is a procedure where the orthodontist assistant takes a very small file like gadget and pushes it in between your teeth and then pulls it out again, repeating this action several times. Apparently this is done in order to help make space in between your teeth and help them to move faster. Essentially they are filing down your teeth and it is barbaric! This first time it was done to me I was caught completely off guard and was too traumatized to resist. The second time I tried to negotiate with the assistant not to do it, but she did it anyway. And the last time I almost resorted to physical violence, much like a cat not wanting a bath, but the bitch was strong and she pinned me down with her elbow, leaving me squirming in the chair like I was having an epileptic fit.
Apart from being tortured every six weeks by having inter-dental-scrapings and having my braces adjusted (which hurts like a mother fucker), nature also decided to through a spanner into the works. From the onset I decided to get porcelain braces as they are less noticeable but unfortunately much more expensive than regular braces. They are manufactured in Japan. Yes Japan, you know that place which had that bad ass earthquake. That Japan! And the earthquake completely destroyed the factory that manufactures my braces and they currently cannot be found anywhere else in world. The factory is now being rebuild but this time in the United States and in the mean time if I break anyone of my little porcelain devil brackets I am screwed. Do you know what kind of stress that causes? Every time I bite something and I feel something crack, I shit myself a little and pray it was not a porcelain bracket. Imagine, I whole top row of teeth with porcelain brackets and then on your top front tooth a regular one. Gawd! I am not biting into anything hard until I get conformation there are at least four or five spare brackets in a volt somewhere for me in case of an emergency. It can even be taken off a dead man I don’t care.
I have by my orthodontist’s calculations another ten months left of suffering adult braces. Damn you orthodontic relapse! Damn you! Seven months on I won’t lie; I have seen some major improvement towards getting that perfect smile back again. The braces are doing their thing and I guess it will all be worth the pain, embarrassment, drama and unpleasantness in the end. However, the end cannot come soon enough! So until then I will be Ugly Betty, lisping and drooling my way through life until I am free from these damn braces.
Till next time.