Tooth Be Told

I had my temporary veneers done yesterday (eight of them), and I am sort of feeling like this dog at this point. The new teeth feel like someone has attached a 20 pound brick to the front of my face, and thank God they are, by definition, temporary because I am not exactly loving them.

I had feared they would resemble George Washington's wooden false teeth, but no such luck. For some strange reason, they are stair stepped. They are xylophone teeth--the one on the far left is the smallest and they gradually get bigger as they work their way across the front of my mouth. Is this some new trend in dentistry? While I always aspire to be a trend setter, I am going back Monday to discuss some changes. Namely, I don't want to have to tip my head to the side like a cocker spaniel in order for my smile to be straight.

Tuesday night before the procedure, I was given a Valium to take at bedtime. Hallelujah! I prepared myself for the first good night's sleep in years. Surely a Valium could drown out Clint's snoring, yes? Nope. The stuff had no effect whatsoever, except to make me really annoyed that everyone else in my house was getting an amazing night's sleep while I was being kicked out of bed by the dog and having my hair blow black away out of my face by the snoring happening on Clint's side.

Getting dressed Wednesday morning was a bit of an ordeal: what does one wear to these things? My instructions said no nail polish, no jewelry and something comfortable such as sweats. I realized the appointment was not going to be fun, but surely it didn't have to be homely, too. After three wardrobe changes, I emerged in a long sleeved, tie-dye Salty Dog Cafe t-shirt, yoga pants (naturally) and my workout shoes with "Buh-Bye" stitched on the heels. This was my extra comfy TCB outfit. I thought it conveyed easy breezy on top, don't mess with me down below. Yeah, that came out wrong but I'm still coming down from the meds so you know what I mean.

I opted for sedation. No surprise there, right? What did surprise almost everyone at the office was that the sedation did not take effect. The assistant said perhaps they would go ahead and get started and she was confident that it would take hold in the next few minutes. An hour or so in, I believe the dentist must have noticed the vice grip I had on the dental chair and probably the fact that my eyes were big and bulging like ping pong balls. Are you relaxed, he asked? NO! Would you like an additional pill to try and help with that? YESSSSS! And so, another happy pill finally came along. Thankfully, after that little helper, the last hour or two was not too shabby. I never felt totally out of it and sure as sugar couldn't "just let yourself doze off" like they suggested, but there times when I kind of daydreamed a bit and forgot that there was major construction being done in my mouth.

Four and a half hours after we began, the new staircase temporary veneers were in and I was ready to go. Miraculously, Clint appeared on time to drive me home and I sort of swayed my woozy self out to the waiting room. Dr. Broome then happened to comment that sipping something cool with caffeine would help any swelling go down. "You mean I can have a Diet Coke?!" What a dazzling ray of sunshine in a very dreary, dental filled day! One of the dental assistants even went to the waiting room and brought me back my beverage of choice, slightly chilled with a straw. As my reward for good behavior, I'm sure. I caught Clint looking at my Coke can like it might be a no-no and promptly stated, "They said I can have this. It. Is. MINE." You know, just to remove any doubt.

I came home and watched a very hazy half of Days of Our Lives from the TiVo and then finally caught some very high quality zzzs. Later that night, Clint woke me up for dinner. He left me propped on the couch with the remote dangling from my hand while he ran to Panera for some soup and came back to find me staring inquisitively at the television. "Duck Dynasty," I loopily explained. "Everyone loves it and maybe it's because I'm not exactly lucid, but I don't see why. Oh, hey, and why do they call it that?" He put down the soup and took the remote from me, then explained that the family on the show makes duck calls and hunting equipment. Ohhhh. That skated right over my medicated little head. I turned my concentration to eating mushy food and staying in an upright position while doing so.

Today has been a cycle of Ibuprofen, medicated mouthwash and mushy food (in further news of I can't catch a break, the dog ate my oatmeal this morning when I wasn't paying attention--really?). I know what you're thinking: yes, it is a glamorous life, but someone has to do it. And I truly believe the marathon of Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders: Making the Team that is running right now is a gift from above. Although my teeth are not exactly DCC material.

I'm going back Monday to talk about the changes I'd like to see in the shape and length of the veneers. Specifically, I'd like them to look less like a set of Russian stacking dolls and more like a regular set of chompers. That and another complimentary Diet Coke should have me happily on my way. Until then, sending crooked smiles your way!