Adventures in Dentistry: Or; I Explain Why I’ve Been Cranky and Absent

I have absolutely no idea what or why I’m writing this.

It’s midnight where I am. We went to bed at ten and I’ve been tossing and turning ever since, I felt like such a shit because I was keeping R up and he has to get up at five for work. Right now I’m kind of hoping he doesn’t wake up, if he does he’ll realise that I’m not there and come out to look for me; I just want him to get enough sleep before work.

My essay got sent off last Friday, but ever since I seem to have replaced that anxiety with another one.

I’m having a lot of dental work done at the moment; it’s cosmetic and my choice, so I can stop whenever I want to… but I’m so torn.

Basically, 90% of my teeth are where they should be, but the 10% that aren’t are REALLY fucking out of place (basically a representation of everything else in my life), and there’s a small problem with me having wonky teeth…

… I’m scared of dentists.

As in properly, vomiting, crying uncontrollably, sleepless nights and nightmares kind of ‘scared’.

Okay, so I’m scared of dentists, that’s one issue with this whole thing- the other?

Well, I should preface this by saying that I am one of the least squeamish people you’ll meet. I can deal with blood, broken bones, vomit, even burns. For a book I’m writing I spent a summer researching facial disfigurement and the advances of plastic surgery during the First World War. Trust me when I say that any remaining ‘squeamishness’ got beaten out of me pretty quick. However, like everyone I have an Achilles heel:

Metal + teeth makes me vomit.

It’s the strangest thing, I think the orthodonist didn’t quite believe me when I told him but I had a hygienist appointment on Monday and she tried to clean my teeth with some crazy looking metal hook… that shit lasted roughly three seconds before I lurched forward and started dry-heaving into a handful of tissues for about five minutes.

The good news about my teeth is that I can have a removable, PLASTIC (thank the Gods!) brace. (Invisalign, for the dental geeks out there). The bad news is that I have an overbite, and to correct it they’re going to stick some really fucking scary metal crap in the back of my mouth (known as ‘Advansync’ to the dental people out there). It’ll be hidden from everyone, but I have to look at and feel it… and did I mention it’s METAL??!

It’s a mark of how much my teeth make me feel self-conscious that I’m even considering going ahead with this crazy crap.

The Invisalign is the part I’m 100% okay with; in fact, I’m actually looking forward to getting the bloody thing- I’m just shitting myself about the Advansync. It’s genuinely like someone peered into my nightmares and crafted a device that would shit me up in all imaginable ways. My favourite quote is ‘the universe has a sense of humour’ for a reason. Someone, somewhere, is getting a right laugh out of all of this.

Don't worry, I'm not going to subject you to pictures of teeth.

Here’s Scarborough; don’t worry, I’m not going to subject you to pictures of teeth.

Sorry, did you think the dental problems were going to end there?

Nah, this is me- dental problems are an ongoing thing.

My fear of dentists comes from having a lot of dental work done when I was very young. My wisdom teeth came through super early and so they had to extract some of my molars (this is what I was told, I just know I had molars extracted- but I was about ten so it’s all a hazy nightmare). I think that scarred me for life.

Anyway, I’ve been taking the first steps towards getting this torture device fitted (because I was clearly dropped on the head as a child and lost all common sense). Which includes them sticking bits of rubber between my back teeth to create spaces for it.

And, because it’s me- there’s a small issue.

I have a few fillings in the teeth that they’re trying to work with, and those filling have left me with very little space between the teeth- I mean, I struggle to get floss down there- so I have to go back to the bloody dentist tomorrow (today) for them to have another go. Have I mentioned that this process is painful??!

And (yeah, I know- I’m still not finished!) I have a dodgy filling. Basically, it was a very small filling, but ever since it was done I’ve been unable to bite down on that tooth without getting a sharp pain (and people wonder why my fear of dentists is getting worse) and this was one of the teeth they stuck the rubber next to.

I lasted 32 hours before pulling it out (the rubber, not the tooth… I’m not the bloody Hulk) I tried to tough it out but every time something touched the piece of rubber (which is bigger than my tooth. Don’t ask me how I’ve been actually chewing food… it’s a mystery to me) I was in extreme pain. It got to the point where I could even swallow without causing the rubber to move and therefore making me cry with pain. So I pulled the damn thing out.

And yes, I’m aware that ‘rubber’ means ‘condom’ in American. I hope those from across the pond are enjoying themselves right now. 

Tomorrow morning I have to put my big girl pants on, forego the mascara and prepare to be poked and pulled about. I have no idea if they’ll be able to offer a solution for my tiny mouth and dodgy filling, but hopefully a resolution will be worked out that causes me minimal pain…

… yeah right.

’til next time,

Wren x

 

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