Brace Face

The dentist. Now this is a blogger's heaven. I'm sitting in the chair thinking- thank heavens I will be able to write about my trials in the future. When I was a young tike I don't think I ever had an outward problem with the actually going to the dentist..

The problem dwelled within the minute details of those baby experiences.

You (at least my mom kept it under wraps) don't ever get informed that you are indeed heading to the dentist, you just thought mom was picking you up from school early because she knew that you didn't know that one spelling word and you were way scared to take the test.. Ya right-- send me the hardest word you've got, just please don't make me go through the nightmare made of teeth again. You know, I remembered thinking as a kid that working in a dentist's office would be fun.. You could play with the little sucker thing and then you could use that squirty water thing and maybe- sometimes- accidentally- miss and send a squirt into the eye of the patient... Ya all of that seemed really fun while I was sitting there waiting for the dentist to come see me. Then he actually comes and you know its going to be bad because it always is. I cannot fathom a dental visit that ends in "Wow, Kylee, you are the cream of the crop, the dental daughter all of my colleagues and I wish for, can I adopt you?" No, no, no, no.. Its always a problem, there is ALWAYS a problem. If its not your gums, its your tongue, or this space, or that canine (why any part of my mouth is reference to a four legged shaggy animal is beyond my anatomical knowledge), or your bite, or your jaw. How frustrating would it be to work in a field where perfection cannot be defined or even exist? Not to mention the disgusting things one would see on a day to day basis. I probably could not help myself from asking, "What in the good name of everything where you thinking when you agreed to arrive for this appointment? Jenna (hygenists always seem to be named Jenna) get me an extra mask! No no- scratch that- give me two extra masks, a blow torch, and some liquor STAT!" Hence the reason I will stay bounds and leaps away from anything that forces me to meddle around in people's talkers... And heaven bless those poor Jennas.. I may despise them more than the actual dentist. They come in so, so, so cute-- I just wish they would stay that way. But no, they whip out that mirror and they check and attempt to make small talk (small talk will definitely be addressed later). Then they reach for the scraper thing, and I promise you that my enamel does not appreciate being dug into, nor do my gums. And I swear when they floss you its so utterly painful. They make you bleed- that's their whole ambition. Job description: See how fast and how much blood you can extract from the patient prior to the dentist's arrival. After all that they command you to perform this self inflicting pain twice a day. NO I WILL NOT FLOSS REGULARLY AT HOME!! Then you have cavities. Such a bummer, such a fetching bummer. It's like you walk out with a death sentence..

Receptionist: "So I see the dentist found 3 cavities.. What is your Wednesday looking like, want to come in then?"

You: (thinking) LIKE H**L I WANNA COME BACK IN THREE DAYS TO GET DRILLED INTO!!!! "Ya, 3 o'clock open??"

One last problem to address: When I come to the dentist, I do not plan to disclose my life problems, stories, or future with you. Especially when you have a large sharp spear half way down my esophagus. Thanks, but no thanks.. Just push the button that makes my chair recline, pin that bib on me, give me the ear phones and remote, and let the games begin, Jenna.....

I lied, I never addressed the braces concept-- partially because I'm so bitter about my experience with them I've blocked those 5, YES 5 years out of my life.. You can always tell the kids that come out from the orthodontic side of the office.. They look they have been through you know where and back.. There is also always like 3-5 adults parading out behind them looking the same way. You can guess that the mom was the soother, while the older sibling was brought to keep the child pinned down. Then there is the technician or whoever that brings up the back of the braces parade saying, "It hurts did you say, ya mom your gonna need to give him a little advil. And Jimmy, you were so brave, here is a packet of wax that you put on all those owie spots okay?" And here you are thinking as a ten year old... "Wax? I say it hurts and you give me wax? Mom- don't listen to her, I need drugs. Big boy drugs mom, BIG BOY DRUGS. (Pleading eyes) Then you look to your brother thinking you son of a gun, holding me down.. You're gonna pay for that buddy (demonic eyes). You'll pay-- unless you know how to take this blasted metal out of my mouth.. Maybe we could strike a deal (eyes full of possibility).." Little do you know, over the next X amount of months that those train tracks are cranking away in your mouth you face 100 problems with them such as: Do I have food in my braces? My mouth hurts. What color do I want? WHAT COLOR DO I WANT? HOW ABOUT THE ONE THAT MAKES IT SO THEY ARE INVISIBLE... OH WAIT I CAN'T THEY ARE MADE OF METAL! And the real kicker... How are you supposed to kiss other people with braces. You do NOT want to get stuck together.. Uh uh no way. Come to think of it maybe that's why they put braces on at that age....