For the first time in 12 years.
No, you read it right. 12 years. And it was the second time in my life.
Growing up, we were really poor. Remember how we didn't have money for Health Insurance? Well, we didn't have money for a lot of things. Including yearly teeth cleanings.
And, um, when I was little? Brushing my teeth wasn't exactly my first priority.
I was really nervous. I had admitted to Kurt that is had been a few years since my last visit, but I hadn't told him just how many years we were talking about.
He's a dental student. He wouldn't understand.
But I did insist on going to see a real dentist, and not a student at the school.
There's nothing wrong with the students- they do a great job. But I know a lot of them, and Kurt knows the rest of them, and if my teeth were crumbling and about to fall out, I didn't want it getting around the school.
Dental students are the worst gossips.
Especially the male ones.
I was nervous. Really nervous. I even flossed for the occasion (I floss my teeth just about as often as I go to the dentist).
I had years of Calculus buildup (Kurt refuses to call it Tartar), and it took me a few tries to figure out the spit-sucking machine.
But as for my teeth? The ones that I thought would be crumbling and falling out?
And they aren't even serious. "You could just wait until next year, and have your husband fix them in the clinic. They aren't bad at all."
I was shocked. And impressed with my dental genetics.
But I guess it makes sense, because my little brother just went to the dentist for the first time in his life (he's 15), and he didn't have a single cavity.
We totally lucked out in that area of the genetic lottery.
Kurt was impressed. Mostly when he saw my X-rays.
"Whoa, 3 of your wisdom teeth are missing! And the other one is fully ruptured, but perfectly placed. You aren't going to need any surgery."
Even better. For years I'd been worried about it. I had heard that it's possible for the surgeon to nick a nerve, and for one half of your face to go completely slack for the rest of your life.
And I just knew that that would happen to me.
(It turns out the nerve damage would only cause loss of feeling, not loss of motor function. But I didn't know that.)
A few years ago when I was teething (which hurts like hell), I decided that I was going to wait until after I got married to get them removed. That way, if my face became lopsided, it would be too late for the guy to run. I'd have already snagged him.
But now? I don't have to worry about any kind of nerve damage. Score.
I guess the moral of this story is if you are going to be really poor, make sure you live on a farm in Michigan. The fluoride levels are to die for.