I have to get braces.
Yup, despite the fact that I already had them in junior high, and despite the fact that, aesthetically-speaking, my teeth look fine ... I have to get them.
It's a long story, probably one you don't care to hear about, but I'll tell a truncated version: I'm missing a permanent tooth among my bottom row of molars. Consequently, the spacing on my bottom row of teeth is all "jacked up," as my friend Karen likes to say, and it's causing problems with my bite. The overbite problem, combined with my incessant teeth-grinding, has been causing my teeth to chip constantly.
Soooooo... in order to avoid all of this rigamarole (after all, I do want to have teeth going into my golden years!) I have to get braces. BIG BUMMER. The only small consolation is that these days, they have "invisible braces" like those above, so at least I don't have to look like each of my teeth is wrapped in tin foil, a la 1987.
Well, I will not go down without a fight, and today I scored Small Victory #1 in my orthodontia battle. Here's the scoop: I was scheduled to have separators put on my teeth. For those of you who are not enlightened, separators push your teeth apart to make space for the bands that go with the braces. A HUGELY painful ordeal. I was supposed to get separators on, and then the top row of my braces goes on July 13th.
Well, imagine my surprise upon learning that my teeth are actually too tightly squooshed together (my verbiage, not the orthodontist's) for separators. So I won't get them! And instead of bands, I'll get brackets.
Ha HA! Take THAT, braces!
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