Tooth Jail

Last week I started Invisalign, which seems silly and frivolous, given that I had braces when I was younger. But I got to a place (perhaps after my 70-year-old sister got braces for the 4th time) where I figured it needed to happen. My bottom incisors are moving around and getting sharper and thinner and I want them to last a few more years. Conversely, I was enjoying the movement I had been seeing in my upper teeth. The gap in my front teeth was widening again, and as an older adult with little to prove, I felt like I could indulge in my gap. But the doctor told me I couldn't keep it and do what needed to be done with the bottom teeth. Oh well.

So I went in for an appointment and threw down for Invisalign without a ton of worry. And now for many weeks I am in tooth jail.

Tooth jail means that my cuticles finally get a reprieve. Tooth jail means my teeth hurt always. Tooth jail means that snacking (one of my favorite pastimes) is more difficult. Tooth jail means that I always have another rig with me (toothbrush, container for my trays, chewie). Tooth jail means I have to figure out how to take out my trays and eat all my meals in under 2 hours a day, or my treatment will take longer.

I have brought this on myself.