By Kelly Day–

Self-Educated Dental Linguist

When you sit horizontally in that cool moving chair in the dentist office, with official people buzzing around you in white coats, you hear a lot of alien words.  After a few appointments, you’d be amazed at how many of these neat, strange words you can pick up and use in your everyday life.

One such appointment absolutely filled to overflowing with this fascinating dental jargon was my third.  After somewhat skillfully removing all those now icky bands and mutilated wires, Selma proceeded to call in Dr. Thatcher for a quick consultation and observation of the work done so far.

As usual, there was light in my eyes because apparently they can charge thousands of dollars for braces, yet they can’t spend $30 to buy a new light that actually moves around and stays in place.  Dr. Thatcher made some noises, as she always did, as she stuck her long dainty fingers every which way in my mouth.

“Alright, Selma, the upper right cuspid needs to come down but hasn’t yet broken the gum, so go ahead and laser that away and attach a button,” she instructed.  “Tie it up with some zing-o-string to help it come on down and join the rest of us.”

She then pats my cheek and prances off to some other victim of circumstance.

Whoa.

Um, can I please have a definition for cuspid?  Or what about zing-o-string?  That sounds like something my five-year-old nephew would play with.

The only buttons I know of belong on shirts and sock puppets.  What makes a cuspid bi?  And did I hear you were sticking a LASER in my mouth?

¿Qué?

These questions and many others were answered throughout the appointment.

Cuspids are also referred to as canine teeth and are quite useful if you’re biting somebody.  It just so happens that the Aguirres as a whole are cursed with horrible cuspids.

If they were only normal, many of us wouldn’t need braces at all (I still would.  I’m just that screwed up). Bicuspids simply refer to the first two teeth that branch out and back from the original cuspid.  There are four total cuspids and eight bicuspids in most every normal mouth.

And yes, you read correctly, they lasered away a bit of my gum.  Though it wasn’t nearly as painful as it sounds, I wouldn’t recommend it.

On a pain level from paper cut to cracking open your skull, it would land somewhere between getting a shot and touching the hot end of a straightener.  Not altogether unbearable, but far from enjoyable.

While my gum was lasered, this strange calm washed over me, and while I winced and flinched, I discovered a new Zen, where I was totally zoned.  Completely out-of touch.

Buttons look as cute as they sound, but require the same amount of maintenance as a regular bracket would.  The one thing about buttons is that they’re great for helping bring stubborn teeth down (or up, I suppose), but once the tooth is down they’ve done all they can do for you.

Then you must sit still at your next appointment as they break off the button and the glue that holds it in place, reapply the glue, and place a bracket.  One of my biggest fears when they apply the glue is what would happen if my lip falls on top of it and gets stuck to my tooth?

Then not only would they have to rip my lip off the tooth, but they’d probably have to do it in the next appointment, so I’d walk around for one month with a lip attached to my tooth.

Wow.  I bet the guys are really into that.

Zing-o-string, as opposed to popular belief, is not a child’s play thing.  It is string that stretches out very taught that attaches the button to the wire and brings the right amount of pulling that tooth needs to make its way south.

Zing-o string, like all things dental, has its drawbacks.  Selma, as an inexperienced orthodontist person who means well, wanted very much to get this mastered on the first try.

So she pulled and pulled and pulled at that string until it could stretch no more, and then she pulled it even harder and then…

…SNAP!

Ow.

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry Celie!” she cried.  “Oh, let me go get the doctor…”

She ran off as a welt began on my upper lip where the zing-o-string hit as it rebelled against Selma’s persistent pulling.

Sigh.  Why is it that I can’t seem to leave a dentist office unless I’m red, swollen, and in pain?

As it got time to go, we set about taking all of our pictures (which I never look good in and there are no retakes), and I asked for my fluoride rinse (cherry flavor, please).  I took one last look in the mirror before getting in the car.

My turquoise bands are super cute, they even match my top.  Now that is coordination.  But the fact that there’s a decently sized red bump over my lip is a bit of a setback.

I got back to school just in time for science.  This particular part of the year is devoted to teaching children about sex and why we should wait to have it (because you should).

Also, we talk about all those lovely diseases you can get if you sleep around.  The wanna-be punk next to me asked if I had syphilis (a warty disease) on my mouth.

Oh, shut up.

Kelly Elizabeth Day is a sophomore at Smithson Valley High School in Comal Independent School District.