A beautiful smile is always in style: Round Sixteen
The moving train of my orthodontal adventure continues to tunnel through winter with its engine in flames.
“My bite is all messed up,” I told the doc, when he asked me to bite down. “I know. Your bite is terrible,” he said. “But that’s normal. The teeth are moving all the time.”
So, he did things to realign me again, though I don’t know what. He popped off two brackets, then had his new assistant [Gael’s replacement] recement new ones to my teeth via a horrible mouth-stretching plastic contraption, causing me to swallow acetone since they didn’t use the spit-sucker the entire time, ending with my throat burning for a while. When all was said and done, I had new brackets and new wires (he wanted to put on metal wires but I refused, citing the fact that I already look 12) and now, two days, three muffins, two bowls of overcooked noodles and many hours of achey mouth later, everything looks great. Except, needless to say, for the gaping hole in the front of my mouth waiting to be filled by my now infamous impacted canine, which is *still* hanging out just above the gumline, inching down ever so slowly. The only uplifting thing is that I don’t have to yank it down with clear rubber bands anymore in the front of my mouth; they’ve attached invisible rubber bands from my molar to the impacted canine, pulling it down in a much more subtle fashion.
In other news, I got my passport renewed today. Can’t believe it’s been almost 10 years since I got the last one. Looking at my old passport, I noticed my teeth in the photo. How messed up they were at eighteen! How straight they are now! I like when I see fast returns on investments. It keeps the blood boiling and the gratitude high.
September, Doc says. This will all be over by September.