Lighting Up a Room

Although I've always wanted a smile that lights up a room and teeth that sparkle, I didn't mean literally.

But that's what I'm getting for at least the next eight months, thanks to some very expensive metal installed on my teeth last week. And while I cannot adequately describe the way light reflects so brilliantly off my braces, I can tell you I'm beginning to wonder if there exists a purse large enough for all the equipment I'm now carrying in the name of vanity.

My last experience with pain and suffering connected to a similar pursuit involved getting contacts, which requires me to now travel with eyeglasses, saline solution and a contact lens holder in case there's a contacts disaster, of which I have had more than a few.

But they pale in comparison to my latest adventure, which was prompted by a lifetime of loathing for my less-than-perfect teeth and trying to hide them in photos like this one.

When I recently learned about a local orthodontist with many adult patients, I signed up for a free consultation. And when he told me I possessed a youthful smile that could be improved without extractions and in less than a year, I was sold. He also says the change in the shape of my mouth will make me look younger. "Will I get Angelina Jolie lips, too?" I asked hopefully. He looked appalled. "Those aren't even attractive," he said, although I think he's the only man in America who believes that.

Our next discussion involved whether to choose full metal, partial metal with white ceramic brackets or clear Invisalign braces. Invisalign takes longer and they must be removed for each sip of coffee, so they were out. Full metal jacket seemed the antithesis of the vanity that got me to this point. That left ceramic brackets with a piece of silver metal threaded through them. But then I learned the plastic ties necessary to move the teeth can stain easily. Suffering may be necessary for beauty, but giving up coffee and red wine would be excruciating. I opted for metal ties. As a result, I don't think my mouth will ever make it through another metal detector.

I was advised after installation that I might be slightly "uncomfortable." I don't want to accuse anyone of lying, but I'm not sure "uncomfortable" accurately describes having the edges of your teeth hurt so much that you can't eat or the feeling of metal cutting into your mouth. There's a reason they say to always carry wax to use as a protective barrier. However, it's also pretty painful to see those ugly globs of white stuff on the ugly metal you're wearing to fix your ugly teeth.

"You're not smiling the way you used to," Husband No. 1 observed. "Why aren't you showing teeth when you smile?"

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to scrape your lips over a mouthful of metal?" I snapped, although it probably sounded more like a mumble. "Get used to it."

He looked a little frightened, but he did offer to go buy me some baby food. I declined, but I do believe food is going to be a major issue in my pursuit of the perfect smile. Not only does it hurt to eat, I'm still trying to find a food that won't get stuck in my braces. I'll spare you the details, but I'm giving up blueberries and spinach.

I'm supposed to brush my teeth immediately after eating. This means I have to carry a toothbrush and toothpaste along with Alleve, wax, and a pocket mirror to check for stray food. These items, combined with the contacts paraphernalia, are severely straining the space limits of my purse.

I believe the pocket mirror is going to be an especially important tool, especially with all my metal attracting so much light and so many curious stares. I'll need it to make sure people are gawking at my braces, not debris hanging from them.

Yesterday I thought I also might need to carry a first-aid kit to treat bleeding gums. Turned out the bright red was only a piece of lobster. This means my purse still has room for any equipment necessary for future pursuits in the name of vanity!

Of things medical....

I think it's entirely possible that there are red warning notes attached to my files in offices throughout the area to alert medical professionals that they are dealing with a difficult patient.

Consider my dentist's office, which I diligently visit twice annually for a dental cleaning, as does the rest of my family. And nearly every time, the hygienist advises it's time for my annual X-rays and I remind her that I will be declining her lovely offer due to my concern over radiation. I then suggest that perhaps she should repeat her request to me and my children next year, in two years, or maybe not ever again.

This never goes over well with the perky dental hygienists. But my radiation fears are well-known (weren't the Russians going to kill us with it?) to those who made fun of me during all the years I refused to have a microwave oven in my house or to use a cell phone -- although in the interest of full disclosure, I will confess to having eventually surrendered to the convenience of both.

But not to to the annual dental X-rays. I mean, think about it: If the dentist sees a cavity developing via these X-rays, nothing can be done about it anyway until the cavity comes to the surface so it can be filled, right? I have no intention of absorbing extra radiation just to give the dentist an early warning system -- and a few extra bucks in his or her bank account. As you might imagine, this attitude is not warmly embraced at my dental office.

But I was vindicated last week when I heard the former president of the American Cancer Society say on the Dr. Oz show that she won't have dental X-rays either because of radiation concerns.

She made the comment in the context of a piece on the burgeoning rate of thyroid cancer in this country -- and the fact that 75 percent of the cases involve women. And what is a cause of thyroid cancer? Too much radiation.

Although the medical professionals on the program were reluctant to point a finger at any one source, it's pretty easy to figure out where women receive more radiation then men --mammograms. The doctors weren't telling women not to get mammograms, noting their ability to reveal cancer, but they did observe that radiation into the breast "scatters" -- as it does from dental X-rays -- into other parts of the body. They recommended requesting lead aprons that include a piece to cover the thyroid any time you undergo any type of X-ray. That seems reasonable, especially if you enjoy getting those dental bite-wing X-rays every year.

Another place where my medical file has a warning label is the eye doctor's office, the target of numerous telephone calls and visits in my recent quest to replace my glasses with contacts. The adventure continues. A few weeks ago I lost a contact at work so I had to sheepishly call to ask that it be reordered (the eye doctor's office is now on speed dial and I see more of the folks who work there than my children). The lens was on back order so for the following week I returned to my glasses, which did not seem to be working as well as before. In fact, some days I could see better without them.

Five days after I lost the lens, I rubbed my eye during a musical performance at the local theater. You guessed it -- out came the missing contact. I couldn't stop laughing because I was positive I had taken another contact out of that same eye five days earlier. This meant either I had put two contacts in one eye at the same time OR removed one from my right eye and didn't realize it was still on my finger while I removed the one from my left eye, causing me to leave the right eye contact behind. This also explained why my glasses didn't seem to be working like they should.

At my next visit to the eye doctor, I could see that his eyebrows were inching progressivley higher as he read the many notes in my chart recorded by his friendly staff after each of my calls. When I told him about the double-contacts experience, he calmly replied that this process takes time for adjustment.

"But how do you adjust for operator error?" I asked. He laughed, then assured me that the record was held by a guy who put three contacts, each on top of the other, in the same eye. I think he might have been lying but it did make me feel better.

And, as far as I can tell, there was no radiation involved, either.