I would have made dinner yesterday and blogged about it but frankly, I felt like all my teeth were going to fall out and was in no mood to eat. Why, you ask? Because I had a dumb orthodontist appointment. Nothing against my orthodontist, because I absolutely adore him (and his scarily straight teeth that come along with being a tooth doctor). And all of his assistants are amazing. Well, almost all. There’s one of them that I’m
pretty sure positive hates me. Not sure what I did to her, other than make her totally jealous of my awesomeness. But she hurts me :( Boohoo. Whenever my sister and I go to have our braces tightened, we have bets to see which of us is going to get stuck with the lady I’m going to call…scary lady…since I’m so uncreative. As always, I got the privilege of having her work on my teeth yesterday.
Scary lady started off the 1/2 hour of pain with her usual stare-into-your-soul glare. Then, she took off my rubber bands, making sure to scrape all my teeth with the rubber band taker-offer tool. I’m pretty tolerant with most medical procedures. I can have my blood drawn, get an IV, shots etc. No problem. But getting stuff worked on in my mouth makes me have a panic attack/feel nauseated/want to start punching people. And scraping my teeth is the absolute worst. Just thought I’d throw that in there so you know exactly how uncomfortable I was yesterday. Anyway, after the scraping of the teeth, we moved on to the putting on of the wire, which she made sure to poke me with plenty of times.
After that it was time to put on more wires to bind my teeth together. She kept messing up the wire and had cut it with the pliers, which then resulted in the wire exploding and bits of metal flooding my mouth with their metallicy taste, resulting in more discomfort on my end. Oh and while she was doing all of this, she was breathing in my face. Did she have a mask? Yes. Was she wearing it? Of course not.
After that she asked in her I’m-so-cute high pitched girly voice that really bothers me “What color rubberbands.” It wasn’t even phrased as a question. It was more of a answer now so you can get out my face statement. So I took my time choosing the colors ;) Buahhhahaha. “How about just silver..ehh wait…red….err…no….green and…wait, is that glow in the dark?! No way! What kind of toxic chemicals do they put in that to make it glow in the dark? That has to cause cancer. Oh, back to rubber bands. How about…hmmm…green aaaannnndddd….orange. No! Clear! NO WHITE! GREEN AND WHITE!” True story, minus my thoughts on cancer causing rubber bands. I kept those to myself. While she was putting on the rubber bands, she made sure to drop the tools in my mouth, like she always does.
We finished up the pain-fest with her instructing me how to put rubber bands on my back teeth to pull some teeth down. Whenever she talks, it’s like she’s dumbing things down for me. “This is a rubber band.” No joke, that’s what she said. “I know you’re all like ohmygosh, I hate rubber bands they’re so annoying, but you’d better wear them or I’ll be able to tell and your teeth won’t look good.” She then went on to show my how to put them on, pointing out my every mistake and when I messed up saying “Don’t worry, you won’t be this bad at it once you do it enough.” She was making me (as a friend of mine likes to say) flustered. My face was turning red and I was 1 inch away from not controlling my Italian temper anymore. Finally, I could go and she followed me to the waiting room talking about who knows what (It might have been important, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen). I kept turning my back to her to get her to stop talking, but she wouldn’t. I finally just said “BYE SCARY LADY!” and left.
So that was my day yesterday in a very large nutshell. How was your day???
Dinner tonight was eh. Good, but nothing worth talking about. Pasta with ground beef and onions (blech), salad, a Dr Pepper to make me feel better, and coffee ice cream for dessert. Nothing special.
And now I’m going to bed, after I down the entire bottle of Aleve and chuck the empty bottle at scary lady. Nah, I’m only joking! :) I’ll have to wait another 6-8 weeks to chuck it at her…