Back at the Orthodontist

So I find myself at the orthodontist this morning. It's not for me, and it's not for braces - whatever, forget why I'm here. I just am.

And I have to say, I'm not all that pleased about it. This is bringing back memories of going to the orthodontist as a kid, and they are, needless to say, not great memories.

Right now, the office here is quiet, but I overheard the receptionist say that they expect 50 checkups this afternoon. We better not be here for that rush. I'm getting sweaty palms thinking about it.

I have two strong memories from my braces days. First, was the hurry up and wait. Invevitably, we'd arrive to my appointment late. Then we'd wait in the waiting room, then I'd wait in a dental chair, and then someone would finally check me out. The check took about 45 seconds. That's it. Why they couldn't check me in the waiting room, or if we had them, via a web cam. Why? What a waste.

My second memory was of the toothbrushes. Looking back, this made a lot of sense - you're dealing with 11 year old kids after school, they probably have a good two meals stuck in their braces. So, what do you do? You have them brush their teeth before the appointment. Sounds sane. How it was executed, I have to think looking back, wasn't.

At the beginning of the year, you were given a toothbrush, a plastic tube, and a number, say 397. At the start of your appointment, you'd grab your toothbrush from a gigantic rack (well, when you're 11, it looks gigantic) and brush. This means pulling #397's tube, taking out a toothbrush that had been sitting in an airtight tube for weeks, if not months, brushing, and sealing back up again.

Yuck.

Now imagine you're a dyslexic 11 year old? I must have brushed my teeth with 397's, 937's, 793's brush. I can't imagine I used my own toothbrush every time. Sorry my fellow ortho patients.

Like I said, not the funnest of memories.

--Ben