Killer or Crooked Smile?

In retrospect I believe my imperfect smile should have been recognized as a potentially chronic problem with my Kindergarten school picture.  I was a mere four when the above photo was taken in the early 70's.  At that time children started school based on the date of their birth as opposed to the preference of their parents.  With my September 13th birthday, I had always held the coveted position of being one of the first birthdays of the school year (right after Mary Galles and a day before Tom Jaminet) along with being the youngest in my class.  But with my young age, I was also a big thumb sucker which led to my crooked buck teeth and future need for orthodontics.

My mom tells the story of me bringing home this picture and throwing it on the kitchen table visibly upset; knowing this was not a "keeper".  My brothers had a hay day laughing and poking fun at what I was potentially doing to cause the exasperated expression on my face.  My mom ignored these comments and simply didn't order my school pictures that year.  The only evidence of this photo is in the class compilation which included all student pictures; regardless of if they were ordered.  My brothers still bring up my kindergarten picture on the laughable occasions where they mimic my "killer smile".

My very buck teeth led to much needed braces in my pre-teen years.  My brother, Mark, also a thumb sucker with matching buck teeth, was my ortho companion.  We had all of our appointments together to save time as my mom made the nine mile trek to neighboring LeMars, Iowa.  After putting two of my own children through braces, I am now keenly aware that the approach to teeth straightening has changed quite a bit from the 1970's.  I grew up in an era of "one size fits all" orthodontics.  My brother and I (and all of my friends with braces) had matching plans and timelines; including basic teeth extraction and the wearing of head gear.  I don't remember my orthodontist taking any extra time to assess my mouth and develop a plan specific to me.  Mark and I were basically a duo deal plunked into our orthodontist's standard protocol program.

This was my "buck-tooth" stage.
I was trying to hide my overbite which resulted in my very crooked smile

Once Mark and I hit the golden date in the ortho timeline for the removal of our braces, I was confident that my crooked teeth were forever a distant memory.  I am quite sure this was the last time I thought there was an issue with my smile.  That all changed last week when I visited an orthodontist to see what I could do about a bottom tooth that had become progressively crooked with age.  Being the recipient of full braces once and bottom braces a second time, I believed this to be minor adjustment.  In fact I waited until I had my first two children out of braces before deciding to look into less invasive, removable braces for my easy fix. The added irony was that I choose to visit an ortho different from the one I kids used simply because I didn't think I needed the special "full service" care they had received.  I was certain that I would buy the new trendy removable braces (ones that my kid's traditional ortho didn't offer)...a quick fix for an orthodontics pro like me who had been down this road before and only needed a minor adjustment.  But I quickly found out that my "been there, done that" philosophy was flawed.

Let me preface the rest of the story by stating that I very much like and respect the work of both orthodontists that I speak of in this story:  both my kid's ortho and the new ortho providing me my recent consultation.  But I have to be completely honest in saying that I felt like I was cheating on ortho #1 when I went to my consult with ortho #2.  Although plagued with guilt, I had convinced myself that this was the best alternative for all parties involved (why bother ortho #1 with such a minor case?).  I do need to come clean on the fact that I had given a great deal of thought as to how I would remove my braces from secret ortho #2 when bringing my third son to ortho #1 to start his braces next year.  And since I have already shed my soul, I also have to admit that part of the motivation in wanting removable braces was to hide my cheating ways.  So as you can imagine, my consult with secret ortho #2 did not start out well as I sat in the waiting room hiding behind a magazine with a guilty conscience.

After being escorted through a very fancy office by many very nice people with a variety of jobs in taking pictures and x-rays of my choppers, I was brought to a big office for my official consult.  Yet another very nice lady introduced herself as my orthodontia liaison.  She reviewed my file and then shot up the images of my mouth taken just minutes previously on to the most gi-normous plasma screen affixed on an adjacent wall.  Seeing the inside of your mouth and your teeth up close and personal is not an exercise I would recommend to 90% of the population.  Not a pretty sight and not for the faint of heart.  I would further say that there is no need to look at any body part that closely and on that big of a screen for any reason.  My teeth were no exception and certainly not what I thought I saw in the mirror every day.

My first clue that my consult was going awry was when the nice lady excused herself because "I want to have a few words with the doctor in private before he comes in"  <nice lady flashes me her killer smile>.  Hmmmm...something wasn't feeling right to me.  Shortly thereafter the handsome ortho #2 walks in and tells me flat out, "I am sorry, but you are a complex case."  I lay in the chair speechless staring at my nasty mouth on the screen as he proceeds to tell me how the wrong teeth were pulled for my pre-orthodontia as a child.  He didn't know who was to blame; my small town dentist or orthodontist (all kind of sounded like the chicken and the egg dilemma).  Pulling non-identical teeth caused me to have a very imperfect bite that could not be corrected without surgical tooth implants (major surgery with one week off of work and risk of complications) which would then put me back to where my teeth were before my childhood braces and we would start all over again.  Yes, that is the only way to correct my very crooked smile.  Oh, and there is more...the surgery is considered cosmetic and not covered by insurance and after reminding me again of my very complex case; my braces were quoted on the high end of the price range.  So the estimated bill to correct my apparently freaky Frankenstein-isk smile (and how did I ever miss this when I looked in the mirror the last 30 years???)...$32,000!

So after I peeled myself off the floor from shock and asked a lot of questions, I will tell you in all honesty I believe ortho #2 was correct.  The only way to achieve a perfect smile for me would be this route.  He went through great detail in pointing out how my teeth alignment was completely off and how my teeth had overcompensated for the wrong pulled teeth over all of these years.  The ultimate result which was now apparent to me was my one crooked tooth dead center in my bottom tooth line.  The nice lady kept assuring me that I would be so happy with the final product...perfect teeth and a perfect smile.  A bit shell shocked, I thanked both of them, shook their hands and wobbled out the door.

After calling Garrett and explaining how it was time to take this horse to the glue factory, the first rational thought to follow was that I could spend $32,000 for the perfect smile only to be kicked in the face by a horse the next day.  What good is a perfect smile with a messed up face?  So why tempt fate?  Then my really rational side (more honestly...Garrett's thoughtful input) reminded me that I currently experience no pain from my messed up mouth, suffer no physical side effects, and (per ortho #2) have no real risk of future complications from choosing not to correct.  So in the spirit of calling a spade a spade, this would purely be cosmetic.  It really would be no different than a nose job or liposuction.  Suddenly I "got" how cosmetic surgery could be addictive.  Here I was just living my life with no idea that I have a messed up smile.  Possibly I have avoided looking too closely in the mirror.  People do smile back at me when I smile at them which I always thought was a good sign.  But within an hour of acknowledging that I did in fact have a huge imperfection, I was somewhat convinced that I needed to be fixed.  Fortunately it then took less than an hour for me to come to my senses.  Can you imagine what good could be done with $32,000? Think of the multitude of people and charities I could help...the list of real human needs is endless.  Putting it in that perspective, how could I in good conscience spend that amount of money for pure vanity?  

I have had several more takeaways after having had some time to reflect on my consult.  First note to self: Putting Rolls Royce rims on a Chevy does not make it a Rolls Royce (doesn't mean you can't be a high-end Chevy though!).  Second note to self:  No more opening up the hood unless smoke is billowing from the engine.  Third note to self:  I could have a flat stomach and a great butt at no cost if I just took the time to consistently do sit ups and squats.  So why in the world would I pay for perfect when I haven't even figured out how to capitalize on what I can have for free?  I expect you can gather that I have decided against the implant surgery and braces.  I kind of like my crooked tooth now.  And I'm going to tally my $32,000 savings as I put it toward worthy causes.  The donation money I have earmarked to date causes me only to smile bigger and embrace my now favorite imperfection.  I am thinking that if I just tilt my head a little bit when I smile, I should be good. Oh, and by the way, I did take Grant in to ortho #1 for his initial consult yesterday.  Since I didn't actually cheat my loyal ortho, the guilt is gone and all is right in the world again.  So life really is back to normal for me with my crooked tooth and my crooked smile.  And my apologies as I politely excuse myself and end this blog.  I need to go do some sit ups.