Braced for the Worst

I work very hard to convince myself and everyone around me that I am an adult to be taken seriously. In many ways, I still see myself as a twerpy little eighth grader who is still in desperate need of fashion and makeup tips. It's hard for me to understand that other people don't share my perspective.

My quest for adult actualization suffered a major blow yesterday. I went to the orthodontist.

I am only getting orthodontics for my bottom teeth, so it didn't occur to me to worry about the effect that this metallic adventure would have on the old ego. Bottom teeth don't show up in pictures, right? I realized my gross miscalculation as I sat in the waiting room with several twelve year olds and their parents. I felt my self-esteem balloon deflating rapidly.

It didn't help that most dental hygienists tend to be nurturing types who treat all patients like their favorite grandchild over to play for the afternoon. One of them kindly showed me around the office (unfortunately she neglected to show me the complimentary toothbrushes, which I regretted later on in the visit when the doctor showed me the close up digital snapshots of my teeth). Another helped me fill out my information forms. A third charmed me by offering me cookie dough flavoring when I had my impressions made.

The consultation was painless enough, once I got out of the view of the prepubescents in the waiting room. I answered questions about my dental history and let the nice lady take x-rays and pictures of me (dang! Should have fixed the hair today. Now a very unflattering digital image accompanies all of my information). It got a little awkward again as she explained the office's dental health incentive program which rewards patients with wooden tokens for such accomplishments such as wearing the office t-shirt to appointments, regular brushing, and making A's on a report card. These tokens can be cashed in for lucrative prizes such as CDs, mousepads, and gift certificates. I didn't know which was worse- her implying that I would be interested in such a juvenile extrinsic-motivational system, or the fact that I was kind of excited by the idea of getting a free t-shirt and an opportunity to win gift certificates just for brushing my teeth.

Anyway, due to the nature of my particular maxillofacial situation, I'm looking at 10-12 months of braces, which is not too bad in the long run. My dad, the dentist, has promised me that my smile will eventually sag ("just like everything else"), so I am happy to straighten up my bottom teeth before this becomes an issue. In the meantime, you can stay tuned in here to the blog for all the highlights of this little adventure.