Eve.

I start a "new chapter" tomorrow morning at 10.40am. An intimidating prospect and one which I have not over-thought or over-dramatised in the slightest...

I AM GETTING A BRACE TOMORROW.

MY LIFE ENDS TONIGHT!!!!!

RIP ME 03/10/2011

Almost 23 years old... A good degree in Psychology... Growing confidence, a little vanity. A set of beautiful shiny friends. A self concious smile... a perfected pout. Tooth ache. Dentist. Whispers. BRACES. BRACES. BRACES. BRACES.

The shocking verdict was revealed to me by my Orthodontist; a long term sufferer of acute short-man syndrome, that I did not find a) cute or b) at all reassuring. Why is it that when an orthodontist opens his mouth, you become sort of entranced and mesmerised by personified teeth perfection? His words became a hypnotic lullaby. A real life advert. In fact, I swear at one point I caught my crooked reflection in his cocaine-white canine. TING.

Unfortunately, my predicament is owed to my "disfunctional" cross bite. Fortunately, the fact it is worsening means that my perfectly-gnashered-incisor of an orthodontist accepted me on the NHS. Essentially, saving me a small fortune (around £3,500)... but even more essentially, the looming and unexpected transformation into UGLY BETTY.

For the past 3 and a half months I have had to wear a removal brace, (also known as a palatal exapnder). A big hard lump of plastic which has a screw to turn. It takes up about 5/8th's of your mouth. Removable is great. speaking/eating/swallowing is not. Initially, I found the brace impossible. Coming to terms with, and the subsequent dealings of, excess salivation was particularly tough.

Speaking was another achievement altogether. My tongue suddenly became 8 sizes too big for my mouth. My "speech" consisted of various wagglings of tongue whilst making some vague-vowel type noise.

My expression on my poor Mother's face when I tried to ask her a question was both hysterical and devastating. My tongue waggled. She would close one eye, screw up her face, tilt her head to one side, staring - open mouthed- at my open mouth. Then she would dare answer yes or no to a question she was afraid to admit she HADNT A CLUE WHAT I WAS ASKING.

A few months later I have, begrudgingly, mastered this lump of plastic. It now acts as a geographic-location type tool. One simply listens and follows the faint noise of Darth Vader.. and there they will find me.

Despite my new humourous take on what I consider devastating news... tomorrow still remains a scary day.

Naturally, broaching the subject of the brace to my perfected pearly pals required deliberation. I tried two different ways;


number one: ridiculously cazsh (aka casual)


me: "oh please can you pass me the salt. oh, by the way.. I am getting braces!"
friend: "but your trousers stay up enough with a belt?"

number two: ridiculously dramatic (aka dramatic)

me: amongst sobs and splutters: "yeah... I have to get a br-br-    brace."

friend: "OH MY GOSH. like a metal face/neck brace?!!!?!!"

me: "er, no... for my teeth"

friend: "ohhhh, thats no biggie at all"

I have now found a happy medium which provides the appropriate level of sympathy without friends thinking I am terminally ill. Phewf.

So, I will be "EMBRACED" for about 12-18 months. After intial plans to ignore everyone and to enter my metaphorical chrysalis as of tomorrow (and after harvesting my bod and emerging a new smiley me etc etc...), I have now decided I want to remain sane and shall therefore try to be as normal as possible. I shall use this blog to share my emotions/embarrassments and hilarities along the way!

TOMORROW I WILL TAKE A LONG DEEP BREATH AND BRACE MYSELF.