My feet propped up on the edge of the reclined dentist's chair and my mouth wide open, Dr. Vo tried to snap in my second set of trays.
I say "tried" because that's what was happening. For what seemed like several moments. Because what was NOT happening was those things actually fitting onto my Chiclet-sized teeth. Those little suckers just were not wanting to snap on. I should have known then just how tight they were going to be.
And then finally, the * S N A P * heard 'round the world. My dentist, her hygienist and I all about jumped a foot in the air as my top tray finally (and loudly) clicked into place.
"Yeah, that thing's NEVER coming off," I thought to myself.
The bummer deal was that I'd last had a granola bar at like 9am. Now that it was knocking on 3pm, I was definitely getting hungry. But you're not supposed to eat with the trays in, and those trays weren't going anywhere.
So with blood sugar levels plummeting, I got desperate. I gummed at some soup with my trays in (a look that had to be attractive) and committed what is, in my book, the cardinal sin: I went to bed without brushing nor flossing. For reals. It's what we'll discuss at my next therapy session.
The next day I spent 10 minutes trying to get the top tray out. Like, JUST the top tray. I gave up and was like, "Whatevs. I'll just eat and brush my teeth again sometime this summer." Later that day, I had both of my hands crammed into my mouth, desperately trying to pry those puppies out. 15 minutes later? One pop, and then another. SUCCESS!! I ate enough to feed a small country--you know, just to tide me over until my next meal--and then brushed and flossed the ever-loving heck out of my teeth, just in case I never had the opportunity again.
A few days later, my family was out for a quick bite after church. I told them to go on in and order for me while I stayed behind in the car to take out my trays. After several fruitless attempts to remove the trays daintily or with any sort of decorum, I went for the full-on-both-hands-shoved-inside-my-mouth approach, like the jaws of life were trying to extricate someone from a mangled wreck. Little did I know, there was a man standing outside his vehicle who happened to be witnessing this horrifying little event. His reaction went a little something like this (Hit it!):
It's sure to be the topic he'll discuss at his next therapy session.
On the upside, there has been NO pain with these trays. And little by little, they're loosening up (which means my teeth are moving. Yay)! I can now get both top and bottom trays out within about 30 seconds.
Sigh. My smile had darn well better rival Julia Roberts' glistening grin at the end of all of this.
All for now on the way to the perfect smile...
Thea
