1. Last night, blogolks, I had a hard core version of the Dream In Which All Your Teeth Fall Out. You’ve had it too, surely? It’s one of my recurring ones, along with doing the splits in trees. You know the one, the plot goes a little like this : you feel all your teeth crumble into your mouth and next thing you know you spit them out into the palm of your hand. Last night’s version was hard core because they all fell out at the same time, all 45 of them, and I was extremely anxious about trying to find some milk to keep them in, but it had to be full fat, and I couldn’t find any, and it was all my mum’s fault. (hi mum!)

Fascinating.

2.In other dental news, I do spend a large amount of time checking progress in the bathroom mirror. It’s amazing what a month and a bit in braces has achieved. I have taken progress pictures but enlarged views of my saliva-drenched choppers aren’t that enticing. Anyway; today, I can proudly report that my bottom right teeth hurt like a bugger; things are happening! Yay! Be well, stay dry, and enjoy your grub.

March, I think

 

1. Hello, blogfolks, do you know what day it is today? I do. It’s freezing-and getting-hailed-on day. It’s also Wear a Wooly Hat at Home day; because I won’t turn the heating on before 7pm. The temperature has suddenly dropped this afternoon, and when I’m outdoors walking at my usual mad-hatter-on-crack pace, I make sure I close my mouth; otherwise with the cold air I can feel my archwire constrict. Or expand. One or the other. All I know is that it’s not too comfortable having all that metal in my mouth.

2. In other news, I would like to declare my love for Jaffa cakes. Jaffa cakes, what would I become without you? I would be a deprived wreck, for you are the only biscuits I can eat . (which does bring us back to the age-old question: jaffa cakes. Are they a cake? Are they biscuits? Who cares?) Jaffa cakes, I can chew you!

 

3. That’s all.

4. Wait, no; my mum (hi mum) said I was narcissistic, so I’ll add a picture of my gob. Here we go:

Blogfolks, I like to be prepared.

I know I’ve got a long, long way to go before I even have a surgery date and before I find myself in a hospital bed being bullied by nurses; but I’m already planning for it.

Mentally at least.

I plan to make myself a large sign that’ll read ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’. There’s bound to be at least one in there who will bring me a dinner tray with solids and yell at me because I’m not eating – like they did when I got my wisdom teeth taken out.

washing my dirty mouth

Blogfolks, do you know what I couldn’t live without? I do. My trusted Waterpik, that’s what. I bought it the day I got braces, and not just because I like buying myself new toys; as it happens, I don’t know how I could ever live without it pre-braces. Of course using it is tantamount to provoking a volcanic eruption : I have to stand over the bath tub, not the sink. I call it my Teeth Hose. Eww, look at all the little bits of food that were stuck! The cat loves it: she sits on the edge of the bath – not too close, yet not too far- and watches, mesmerised. I feel felinely supported, she’s entertained, everyone’s happy.

Do you know what I’m having for dessert, blogfolks? I do. Sticky chocolate sponge, that’s what. The kind that gets everywhere and intends to stick around til the next meal. But, oh no. We’re in for some fun.

the joy of braces

Nine years ago when I first looked into this whole procedure and talked it through with a surgeon and an orthodentist, I was just starting out as a secondary school teacher;  this is what made me give up. I simply couldn’t not face one to two years of braces in such an environment, where it is difficult enough earning the kids’ respect.

Nine years on, my take on all this has evolved a great deal. Although I was nervous about the first few days, I knew that braces would not cause problems in the classroom. The girls I teach have been extremely supportive, giving me tips about what to eat and how to eat it, and reassuring me about my lisp – apparently, I can hear it, they can’t. Why didn’t you have them as a child? they ask. And I reply thruthfully. With the older ones who express interest, I have even explained the surgery process and why I have decided to go through with it.

True, since the first time I considered orthondontics, adults with braces have become more common, but they’ve rarely gone past their early twenties, at least in England. The first orthondontist I saw tried to sell me invisalign – a miracle, he said, invisible! I laughed, for invisible was not what I was after;  all I cared about what being able to do my job properly, and teaching languages involves alot of speaking. Clearly if possible.

So far, so good.