Braces-the beginning

I've always prided myself on being healthy.  That certainly included my teeth.  For over 14 or so years, I have always gone to the dentist 2 times a year, and only needed a cleaning.

That changed this year.

This year, I got a new dentist.  On my first visit she said I had 3 cracked teeth.  How could that be?  She explained that my fillings had expanded over time and cracked the molars a bit. If I didn't do anything about it, then I might eventually need root canals.

Yes, I cried.  You know when you have long hair for many years, then for some crazy reason you impulsively decide to cut it?  You look in the mirror after the hair dresser spins the chair around, and you cry because your hair is gone and it seems permanent?  That is how it felt.  I cried for the loss of my teeth.  I could hear my mom's voice inside my head, saying that everything starts to break down when you get older.  I was officially breaking down and getting old.

The dental assistant asked me if I was ok.  Yes, I just need time to process I replied.  I took a few deep breaths.  Let's do it.

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Your teeth are also crooked, my dentist said. You need braces.  Wow, what a way to kick someone when they are down.  Then I thought, this woman is looking at me and seeing dollar signs.  Is she scaring me into treatments to make more money?  But no, my teeth are crooked, a bit more on the bottom than on top.  After mulling it over (the price and the whole ordeal) crying from shock at what it would cost (but don't worry, we have credit cards for this purpose) I decided to take the plunge.