Fair warning: This post has nothing to do with masturbation or my switchiness. It does have a fair bit of bdsm in it though, although this particular form involves the oral cavity and the practitioner of said s/m is in fact, my dentist.
Let me start out by saying I love my dentist in general. I have never particularly enjoyed going to the dentist, but I found one who was awesome. He retired at the ripe old age of 50 to drive race cars. I then went through a number of practitioners of the dental arts and had bad experience after bad experience, until my current dentist who has taken exquisite care of my teeth for the last several years. However, I have decided that she is a sadist (you can sing the “Little Shop of Horrors” song now…go ahead, we’ll wait).
The particular form of torture she has subjected me to is known as Invisalign. She’s also apparently a FinDom, as one pays an awful lot of money to be tortured. To be fair, even after having braces for years as a kid, my bite became mis-aligned and was causing all sorts of problems. She recommended the Invisalign because I really did need my teeth straightened again. So, I’m not questioning her judgement here. What I’m harping about is finding out about all the rather unpleasant aspects of the process AFTER I started it.
Getting the digital scan was easy enough. They run this medium dildo sized camera around your mouth. Having had many larger things in my mouth, this was easy. Then you come back and they show you this awesome 3D animation of how the process works. They make it sound so easy. It’s only 15 weeks! Of course I said yes (and handed over my Amex).
My trays came in and I had my appointment. It’s there you find out they have to cement little attachment points on your teeth, and oh, by the way, they have to essentially run this large sharp metal file between your teeth multiple times so there’s room for them to move while avoiding lacerating your gums. This should have set off alarm bells. Also, she mentioned that it might be difficult to swallow and speak clearly with the trays in. Let’s just say that I’ve used a lot of straws and developed quite the lisp. After about 2 hours, I left with my trays to start the process. Okay, so maybe a little more involved than I thought, but not so bad. In for a penny (600,000 pennies actually) as they say.
What followed was 15 weeks of sore gums, very sore teeth, migraines and general grouchiness for which I owe Tripp an apology (when I mentioned this, the answer was “yes, that happens”). Having a mouth full of plastic isn’t particularly pleasant either, but it beats the metal-mouth braces I had as a kid. So, being the good boy that I am, I stuck with the program. Each week I put in a new tray and watched the number remaining drop. I had a goal. I could do this. Just keep swimming, and I made it.
I went in for my final check. My teeth were perfect. They took another digital scan. They made another little movie showing the before and after. It was impressive. I suffered but made it through!!! Yeah, no. This is where I found out about the retainers. Yes, my teeth were straight, but I’d have to wear a thicker set of trays for the next 3 months while my teeth settled. Disappointing, but not disastrous. Still, I was so looking forward to being done. It’s like getting your prison release date but finding out you are going to some halfway house instead of being free.
My retainers arrived in a couple of weeks. When I picked them up, I was handed 4 sets. My dear dentist told me they should last at least 5 years. Wait….what????? If I need them for 3 more months, why do I need 5 years worth????? Well my lovelies, it turns out you need to wear them for 22 hours a day for 3 months , and then every night until you die if you want to keep your teeth straight (I suppose you need to wear them after you die if you want your corpse to have beautiful teeth). This was news to me, and not particularly good news. I’m really over this, but it’s never going to be over. NEVER.
I’m writing this with my teeth enclosed in their plastic prison for the next couple of months before they get a day pass. I suppose it’s worth it, but if I knew then what I know now, I’m not so sure I would have done this. Anyway, if you ever meet me somewhere, I expect some gushing over how amazing my teeth are. It’s called aftercare.