Eighteenth Amendment

Eighteen months today. Year and a half.

Today began stormy with rain coming down in sheets. I arrived at the ortho's office to find no one, not a soul there. I have never been to his office when there weren't at least 3 people waiting in the waiting room, and each of the three chairs in the examination room filled. It was eerie, slow and quiet, and I had real individual attention. He put thicker wires on both the top and bottom teeth and was pleased with the way the upper molars are turning. He's intent on closing the gaps on the bottoms and let me tell you, in just a few hours, I can already feel and see a difference. He did concern me because he said that he'll need to widen out my top teeth, in order to accommodate the crossbite. This I found scary because I don't know exactly how that is to be achieved. The more I read about its treatment and the necessity of something called an "expander," the more I hope that my doctor can fix this without such a medieval torture device...

I did some research on crossbites and they say that it is often caused by people who have large tonsils and adenoids, who are forced to breathe through the mouth, rather than the nose as children. Fascinating! I've been told by every doctor who has ever looked in my throat that I have extraordinarily large tonsils, and this was the cause of yearly strep infections as a child. (Every time I see a new doctor they are shocked to find that they were not removed.) I suppose it is somewhat comforting to know where it comes from, but I'm feeling a little down. I had convinced myself that I would be done with this whole process in under two years. I was kind of specific, telling myself that 18 months would be the time that this will all end. Now, I'm going to have to make an amendment to that lucky number 18.

The Eighteenth Amendment to the Constitution is all about prohibiting the manufacture, sale and transportation of intoxicating liquors--and it was the only amendment to be fully repealed. Right now I could use a glass of intoxicating liquor to ease the disappointment of the repeal of the eighteenth expectation. An After Eighteen sounds like it would ease my childlike hope that all this would have been done by now. Chocolate milk with kahlua and creme de menthe? Yep, that sounds about right.

But then again, in Hebrew chai or חי is both the number eighteen and the word for life. And if I am to look on the bright side, (as I often convince myself to do within the confines of this blog) perhaps there is new life to be had in this eighteenth amendment. What I started thinking of the braces as my greatest strength, instead of my perceived greatest liability? What would happen if I merely started thinking, even for a day, for that to be the case? What sort of life would be birthed? How much wider would I smile?

What if you thought of your worst quality was actually your best? How would your life be different? Let me know, I'm curious.