Brace Yourself!

"You must read this on your journey. Pay it forward when you’re done.” He handed me his copy of 'The Alchemist' after he finished working on me.

“Thank you, I will.” I can't believe he remembered my Camino. Since when do doctors remember anything personal about their patients, or take such interest?

A few hours later, I start feeling the consequences of my orthodontic appointment. It will be worth it in the end, but right now, I’m not happy. My teeth are sore and I will be surviving on geriatric food the next few days: soft and bland. Yuck.  

During the past few years, my teeth went the way of the Brits; crooked, crowded and terribly unattractive. Six horrible years of braces as a kid and you’d never know it to look at me. What a mess they’ve become. One of my great fears is walking around all day with food in my teeth. My self confidence is shredded, I brush my teeth excessively, and never, ever show my teeth for the camera.

I found my orthodontist on the web. As soon as I walked into his office I knew, This is it! Spacious, clean, and thoroughly modern; I felt completely comfortable. I was introduced to a young, handsome, hipster and... Wait. Who is this guy? He's the doctor? I don’t remember doctors being this young. When did this happen? Aren’t doctors supposed to be… older than me? Uh oh.

Nervous, concerned about his obvious lack of experience, I expect the worst. I’m going to be here for hours with all kinds of stuff shoved in my mouth, gagging on cotton and bad tasting goo, wires poking me left and right. Flashbacks of childhood enter my mind and I question my sanity. Do I really want to go through with this, again?

He moves with ease and confidence. I wonder, Are you sure you should be moving this fast? Why am letting this guy build his resume on my mouth? Within a half hour, he is done. What do you mean you’re done? That’s it? That can’t be it. You can’t possibly be done. I’m terrified to look in the mirror.   

Wow! They’re perfect. I’m impressed.

I shake hands with the doctor, grab the book, pay the bill and walk away, smiling, Metal Mouth, again.