Happy Birthday

It was my birthday this past weekend and there was much revelry and celebration. There was a dinner party. There was champagne. There was Bo Ssam and the most delightful dumplings. There was a fantastic five layer ombre cake made by the equally fantastic Alicia. And as I sampled all of the delicacies, it was inevitable that I would pop off one of the brackets that was just put on a week and a half earlier.

The loss of the bracket made the whole armature of my mouth sag, and it started to make me lisp. The braces were dragging on the corners of my mouth when I talked or smiled, and though I wanted to forget about it, I reminded myself that I am not dead wood, and anything alive gets the damn bracket fixed.

I went to my ortho today and I have to admit that I was nervous about it. Would he refuse to replace it as he had done in the past? Would I have to fight him on it, as I had done in the past? Every time I asked myself these questions, something in me was calmed, and a very secure sense of "it's all going to be fine" came over me. This does not happen often, but I've learned to recognize and trust this feeling when appears. I told myself that if he gave me any grief, I would just have to say, very simply, "I need you to take care of me."

Inside the doctor's office, he replaced the bracket. He was receptive and kind. He explained what he was doing with some of the other appliances in my mouth. I left his office feeling good. Giddy in fact.

It's a 10-15 minute walk to the subway from the doctor's office, and a few steps from the subway entrance, I noticed that the bracket felt lower than my tooth. "That's funny," I thought. So I pushed my tongue against it to find that the bracket has already popped off once again. Needless to say, I yelled more than a few expletives as I turned on my heel to hightail it back to the ortho's office.

Once there, he was still nice, still calm, still receptive. He attended to the tooth in a way he hadn't before, added everything back, and I was on my way. And though I didn't have to articulate the words, the situation did it for me: "I need you to take care of me. And I will keep coming back until you do."

And so, somehow we've turned a corner. This makes me feel strangely hopeful where I have not these past six weeks. Truly it's all going to be fine. And that is the best birthday present of all.