There's No Such Thing As a Mistake

The movie "Unfaithful" was on last weekend. I was really struck by the reasoning by Paul Martel when he says (in his fabulous French accent) "There is no such thing as a mistake. There is what you do, and what you don't do."

The last time I went to the ortho, he was again pleased, and told me that we were really nearing the end. He put metal four new metal hooks inside my mouth and showed me how to essentially wire my jaw shut, which I was to do every night. This was painful, and a bit scary, but just as I started to get used to it,  one of the hooks--and a bracket--popped off about a week later. I had a big press event, so I was unable to go to the ortho that week, and he went on vacation the next week. Not wanting to put myself in the hands of assistants and replacements, I waited to see him. The teeth were floating out there for almost 2 weeks and I felt them move every day. There was something strangely liberating about this--that my teeth, one by one, were rebelling against this process and taking themselves off.

I liked the idea of this.  A lot.

Until today.

I saw the ortho and there was a new assistant at the office. He replaced the wire and she replaced the bracket, only to have it break off while she clumsily put new bands on top of it. He tried to again replace the bracket and had to admonish her that she was assisting him incorrectly. After being in the chair over 20 minutes, I started to feel my lips shaking. Once they had the bracket attached, he was about to have her finish, but this idea completely filled me with dread. I turned to him and said, "Can you finish me?  I really need to get to work." For whatever reason, this started to make me shake even more, though he obligingly finished the job. I was shaking so much by the time I got to the receptionist that she asked me if I wanted to sit down for a bit. More than anything, I just wanted out of the office.

The teeth now feel out of whack where they fit together so nicely two weeks ago. And I have to wire them shut again on top of this. I am back to feeling weepy and angry and so definitively that this whole process was one big colossal mistake.

But I am reminded by Paul Martel that there is no such thing as a mistake. There is only what I did and didn't do.