Tooth Fairy

My baby teeth were perfect.

Straight, perfect enamel soldiers in order, in alignment, at attention.

Then I was told the story about the tooth fairy.  

Wait, my teeth are going to fall out?  And I get money for them?  And new grown up teeth grow in?

OK, if you say so.

Finding money under my pillow and not having to do anything for it?  Fine by me.

But then one by one my teeth started growing in and they weren’t perfect at all.  They weren’t at attention soldiers.  They were lazy and crooked and didn’t care about giving me a beautiful smile at all.  In fact, one of my front teeth didn’t even show up.  I was born without it.

All of a sudden there I was at ten with a mouth full of permanent teeth that were an utter disappointment.  Braces were a given.

Finally at fourteen, the day came and an orthodontist slapped the metal on my teeth.  I couldn’t decide what was worse.  Looking at my permanent teeth or seeing them with three pounds of metal.

I could barely close my mouth.  I had rubber bands for tension, wax on top of the metal so that it wouldn’t cut the inside of mouth, and at one time a fashionable headpiece to wear at night.  I felt hideous and uncomfortable and I thought it would never end.

I had to go once a month for a checkup and tightening.  I felt like my dad’s VW bug going into the shop.  I’d sit in the chair, they’d pump me up so they could reach my mouth and grab all of these tools to tune me up.

I couldn’t eat for days after an ortho appointment.  Then I’d have to eat jello and pudding and go through tubes of chapstick for the chapped corners of my mouth.

After a few years of this, the Big Day came.  Time to take off the braces!  Good news:  biggest relief of my short life.  Bad news:  at my next dental check up, the dentist said, “Why did they take off your braces?  Your bottom teeth are all pushed forward.  That’s not right.  He’s not done yet.”

Excuse me?  The next thing I knew I was visiting different dentists and orthodontists and finding out that my orthodontist screwed up my teeth.  I found out that my bottom front teeth needed to be fixed.  That my bottom gum was stretched and couldn’t be left like that.

I was told that my orthodontist messed up my mouth and my mouth needed to be fixed.

I sat there in his office with my mom by my side as we told him we were appalled and heartbroken and needed to discuss a remedy.  We negotiated:   the amount of money we spent; the amount of money we were going to now spend to fix it; and my teenage emotional turmoil.

We came to an agreement and he picked up a pen and wrote a check.  I think he gave us almost twenty thousand dollars.  Years later, I realized that was not nearly enough.

All that time and discomfort and my teeth still weren’t perfect.

The summer after high school graduation, I spent more time in the dentist’s chair.  Periodontist consultations.  New orthodontist consultations.  New plans.

I had to have surgery to remove gum tissue from the roof of my mouth and grafted onto the gum in front of my bottom teeth.

So I had packing on the roof of my mouth and new gum tissue that had to heal at the bottom gum.  Nothing but liquid again.  And jello.

The first night home after the periodontist Mom let me sleep on the couch.  Camped out, falling asleep finally to some TV and pain pills.

When I woke up the next morning, I turned my head and saw my pillow soaked in blood.  I jumped up, shrieked, and ran to the bathroom where I saw dried blood all over my face and neck.  Mom found me and calmed me down, this was normal apparently.  I cleaned myself up, Mom set up new sheets and pillows on the couch.

Two weeks later, I was ready to eat some real food.  Mashed potatoes!  I was giddy.  Mom made some, set the plate in front of me, and said, OK, now you can eat this but go slow.  Be careful.

As soon as she turned around, I picked up my fork and dug in.  I was starving and I attacked those mashed potatoes with gusto.  Warm and creamy and tasty and salty.  And then I realized I’d swallowed something other than mashed potatoes.

The packing that was left at the roof of my mouth slid down my throat right with those mashed potatoes.  Let the healing begin!

After the gum tissue healed completely, it was time for me to visit an oral surgeon.  I was born without a tooth, my left incisor  The new plan was to remove the matching one on the right side and the two corresponding bottom teeth.  Then the orthodontist would close the gaps.

More time in the chair.  More healing.  More jello.

Time to slap on the metal.  Again.  By this time, I was heading to college.  Just what a young woman wants.  Going away to college and having braces on for the second time.  Packing for my first time away from home and I still had to pack rubber bands, and wax, and headgear.

This time, the orthodontist knew what he was doing.  My teeth were pushed together, straightened properly, the bottom teeth went back to their proper place.  No gum issues.

The braces came off.  And before my college graduation.  Win, win.

It was a bit anticlimactic though.  All that work and my teeth were…fine.  They were straight.  But they still weren’t great teeth.  All the years of pushing and pulling and metal led to pretty dull teeth.  Because the incisors were removed, the canines were next to my front teeth.  Yeah, my teeth were officially done with orthodontics, but there wasn’t a ticker tape parade or anything.  There was a huge sigh of relief.  Probably a huge sigh of relief from my parents and their bank account. But the result wasn’t perfect.  A beautiful smile?  A decent smile.

I took a break from dentists except for the six month cleanings.  

A couple years later, I learned that veneers were a possibility.  I started to look into it and I decided that my teeth and I deserved more.  I lucked out because insurance paid for half of the tab back then.  Because of all of the mishaps and screwups and the fact that the veneer decision wasn’t just a cosmetic one, insurance paid for half.  My saving grace.  Plus, my mom helped me to pay for it.

So I thought I was crazy purposely putting myself back in that chair, but I did it.  Impressions and x-rays and choosing shapes and shades and then.  Six proper top teeth.

Cue fireworks and parade.

I finally had the smile I wanted since that damn tooth fairy started visiting.  I was almost thirty years old.

Fast forward to Christmas 2021.

The veneers have aged like I have.  Sigh.

Over the years, my bite has changed.  Stress has turned me into a clencher.  At one point, they made me a retainer so that my teeth wouldn’t move any more than they already had.

Around 2019 I knew that the day was coming near to replace the veneers.  They had a good run.  Almost twenty years old.

I started to think about thinking about replacing them some time later in 2022.

Then a week before Christmas I made myself lunch and sat down with an episode of Murder, She Wrote.  All of a sudden, I was crunching extra hard on something, thinking, well, that’s not right.  That was an odd crunchy crouton.

Looked in the mirror and saw my old tooth staring back at me, veneer less.  That left incisor veneer let loose and I’d eaten it for lunch.

Before I started hyperventilating, I called the dentist.  They got me in two days later.

Seeing that old tooth did me in.  All of the memories came back.  That tooth that I hadn’t seen in years…so small.  So haggard.  Not the right shape for its place in my mouth.  It brought tears to my eyes.

G took me to the dentist.  The dentist and I had talked earlier this year about the impending veneer replacement so this wasn’t a total surprise visit.

He had a cancellation that afternoon and said, If I was ready and wanted to go, he’d start the process that very day.

My eyes got wide, matching my mouth, with lip retractors in place.

The emotions sitting in that chair!  Gratitude tears filling my eyes.  Now?  I can start this right now?  Anxiety rattling my bones.  Now?  I can start this right now?

Let’s do it.

Before G left me there, he asked me what I wanted to eat after the appointment.  “Anything but jello.”

The next thing I knew, they’d given me a little pillow behind my head, a little blanket for my legs.  They turned on the massage function on the chair.  They asked me what music I’d like to hear while the dentist worked on removing the old veneers.  

Not only did the dentist have time for me that day, but the lab guy (my new BFF) was in as well and immediately made the temporary teeth.

Five hours later, G came back to find me with a temporary set of beautiful teeth. He also showed up with a mango smoothie.  Perfection.

Just after the new year, I got the new veneers.

The nerves started settling in the day before.  Anxiety about sitting in that chair for hours again.  But I was excited.  The day was circled and in big letters on my calendar.

The dentist and I opted to do eight upper teeth instead of six to fill out my smile.  It was the right decision.  

The upshot is these veneers are better than my original ones.  My old veneers did their job.  They served me well and lasted a good long time.  But they lacked…personality.  They were like six white chiclets in a row.  The shape and spacing of these new teeth is so much better.  The front teeth are front teeth.  The incisors are incisors.  I’ve never had canines before.  I’m in love with my canines.  Technology and materials are better now.  This dentist and his lab are thoughtful magicians.

This is the best my smile has looked since that tooth fairy flew away with my perfect baby teeth.