“The Dental Nightmare”

Before braces

            Have you ever had tooth nightmares? The one where whole teeth keep falling out of your mouth as you go about your day? Or the one where you spit, look down, and find little flakes of your teeth coating the palm of your hand?

            While stretched out in the dental chair yesterday, my mind shifted to those nightmares and then began cataloging all of the dental work done during my lifetime to keep my unique smile happy and true. I thought about the first time the drill hit my six-year molars. That high pitched whine and grind, the sharp tool scraping out the cavity. I can still feel the pressure, pressure, pressure as the dentist packed my tooth with metal. Little flecks pricked against my tongue. Rinse. Spit. Rinse. Spit. Rinse. Spit. Repeated until all of the pieces swirled down the drain of the spittoon sink.

            Most people dread dental visits, but my positive bond began the next time I needed work when I was ten-years-old. Dr. Frank Bond’s gentle hands and constant reassurances calmed my nerves. He explained to my parents that my crowded lower teeth and buck uppers would worsen because my small jaw simply couldn’t fit in everything. He showed them how little room my mouth had and prepped us for the removal of four teeth with my next visit.  Fortunately, he referred us to the orthodontist next door. My long and uniquely close relationship began with Dr. Jack Payne.

Second year

First year with braces!

            The draconian braces of the 1960s included full metal bands wrapped around each tooth. Spacers forced movement, wires held everything in place, and pain became partnered with each and every visit. Sometimes, a wire would break and stab into my lips. Dental wax resided next to my pencils and pens in my desks at school. Unfortunately, every tooth in my mouth needed to move. That required headgear. Dr. Payne explained that the more I wore this horrible device, the faster my teeth would shift into place. The first thing I did each day after school was pull on the  contraption that went around the crown of  my head to hook onto designated teeth. The added embarrassment came from the rubber bands that crisscrossed inside my mouth. Nothing worse for a preteen girl than having a lethal weapon fire off unexpectedly when carrying on a conversation with my crush, Gary Austin.

Retainers!

            The grueling process for aligning my bite took three very long years and a $1,000 loan my parents had to take through the credit union. No one expected the setback that occurred a few months after I became brace-free. Although I had both an upper and lower retainer on my teeth, shifting started up! A quick round of x-rays showed that my wisdom teeth were coming in early, with absolutely no room for them. Because of my young age, the military dental surgeons would only take out two at a time. The excruciating pain, and my unexpected addictive reaction to codeine, meant I suffered with only Bayer Aspirin available for relief. I returned to school bruised and swollen, but undefeated. Dr. Payne sent me Christmas cards for many years with reindeer in braces or angles smiling with wires and bands attached.

            They always made me smile—nice and straight!

 

Me now!

Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman