measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You have got to be fucking kidding me I'm still waiting on the results of my blood test from before the holiday weekend. I'm hoping someone called me at home today, or there is mail waiting for me with the printed results. I figure if I don't hear anything by tomorrow, I'll give them a call first thing Monday. It would be nice to know one way or the other what my thyroid is actually up to. Had an eye test on Tuesday... barely a change in prescription, but my doctor's still raising my prescription up one fraction because I've noticed some difficulty reading highway signs in the dark (and getting halos around all of the headlights). I did discover that whomever made my current pair of lenses made them incorrectly for my eyes-- the center of my prescription is off by a bit, so I'm not looking out through the correct area of the lens. *sigh* No wonder they've always seemed a bit off. In any case, thanks to my (seriously) wonderful vision coverage plan, I walked out of there having spent a total of $83 for the co-pay, new frames, extra coatings on the lenses, and extra beveling on the bottom edge, since my new frames are the style that are wired only on the top edge of the lenses. I'd wanted to get contacts, but coverage for new frames was MUCH better. I can always ask my parents for contact money for Christmas, I figure. Yesterday I had my dentist appointment. I don't plan on going to the same dentist ever again. I've been to this office a couple times since getting dental insurance, and have not been too thrilled with them. Erich loves his dentist that he's had his entire life, so I'm hoping that I can join his office instead next year. The first time I went to my current office, the hygenist was incredibly rude to me. Then she freaked out once she saw my X-rays because I hadn't told her that I had two metal plates on my jaw from surgery before she cleaned my teeth-- apparently she thought that I'd get some sort of infection from the dental tools because it would interact with the metal plates (riiiiight). We won't mention that I'd filled out my patient history form with that information-- it was there for her to read on my file. *shrug* Anyway... I'd told her then that I'd never heard such a crackpot thing since having the surgery done (*cough* in 1991!), and had never had problems with tooth cleaning. It's important to note that despite being a new patient, my dentist didn't introduce himself to me at all that visit-- I never saw him. Which didn't bother me too much, considering I just had a regular checkup/cleaning done. No big deal. But it would have been nice. Then this time, the hygenist (different one) was very friendly and personable... and I was feeling better about the situation. Since I was due for a full round of x-rays this time, the dentist was called in to take a look and just okay everything. Off and on through the cleaning, the hygenist and I talked about how my jaw surgery had gone (HE noticed the scars on the inside of my mouth and figured it out), and also about how retarded the permanent retainer is that was glued in after my braces came off at age 17. It's crooked. I've hated it since it was put in, and have never figured out WHY it was put in there since the teeth it's "supporting" were never crooked in the first place. The hygenist thought it should come out-- at least to be replaced, if not taken out completely. It's a bitch to clean around, and drives me up the wall most of the time. He mentions this to the dentist, who came in after my cleaning was done. Now-- remember, I've never met my dentist before. He doesn't even introduce himself to me, nor say hello. It's all business in the most distant fashion possible. He immediately disagreed that the retainer should come out-- apparently he thinks it's "doing its job." He doesn't even KNOW what happened during my years in braces, doesn't bother to talk with me about it. This guy has the personality of a wet mop. In fact, he drops this bomb on me: "Well, the teeth on the top left are spaced apart. I recommend that you see the orthodontist to get consulted on getting braces." You have to be fucking kidding me. I just stared at him, jaw dropped (since it was now used to being so far open after the cleaning). And then I asked him why he thought I needed to go back (emphasizing back) into braces, after I'd already gone through a grueling round of them as a teenager. Him: "Well, those top teeth aren't together, and jaw surgery alone would not have helped put them in a straight line. I recommend you look into getting braces since your prior retainers didn't do enough." Me: "The retainers you speak of were two years of wear AFTER I'd spent four and a half YEARS in braces, sir." Him (getting belligerant): "There's no evidence that you ever had braces." Me (reproach): "Well, it's been twelve years now since they were removed-- I'm sure any bracket stains would have faded by now. You've only been my dentist for two years-- shall I give you my orthodontist's name back in Montana? Or perhaps my childhood dentist, who I'm sure is still practicing. Or my father, who dropped thousands of dollars on the things?" Him (backpeddling a bit, but still accusing): "No, I'm sure that won't be necessary. You say you spent four and a half years in braces? That's an unusually long time for them." Me (now getting very annoyed): "Yes, it is. Despite the fact that my orthodontist had said I'd only spend two years in braces, it wound up being double that. And then three years into braces, he had the brilliant idea that my backward-muzzle looking headgear wouldn't be able to stretch my jaw an inch... so they went in, broke it, and extended it. Then a week after I'm celebrating because I'm finally out of wires, I'm suddenly given this permanent retainer for no explained reason-- and it's put in crooked. I went through the removable retainer on my top teeth for two years-- into my freshman year of college. And my teeth moved back apart slightly, even with the retainer. " Him: "Yes, and they've moved far enough that you need to go back into braces." Me: "For medical or cosmetic reasons?" Him: "Cosmetic now-- but it might be medical down the line." Ah yes... the "it might become a problem down the line." Despite the fact that he said that my gums look healthy, all of the roots of my teeth still look perfectly healthy, and I have no mouth issues that I've brought up. It's a problem down the line-- he just has no evidence of symptoms. Me: "Then I'll worry about that down the line. I'm not getting myself re-bracketed for something cosmetic when I have no problems with how my teeth look." (which I don't. Sure, I have a space between my front teeth. But they're straight and all are facing the right way. What's the big deal?" He mumbled something and basically left. The hygenist gave me a sympathetic look (and I thanked him). Thank Goddess I don't have a co-pay to blow on that bullshit. You want me back in braces? Fuck you, buddy. Not happening. I accept that I went through years to improve my teeth and my mouth situation-- it's as good as it's going to get, and I'm satisfied with where it's at. And we're done-- it's too much of a pain in the ass to get up to Brighton, anyway. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Erich has been laughing his ass off the last two days at this: Abbie the Cat's Blog. I keep getting quotes in email at work from him. He's been inspired, and from what I gather, there shortly will be a Mistress Fizz journal coming to a Diary-X near you. I'm afraid. You should be too. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'm looking forward to this weekend and some time by myself to get stuff done in my own puttering fashion. Saturday is going to be a wonderfully quiet day with the guys gone from probably 10 am-ish until sometime on Sunday when they return from Providence... I've been anxiously putting together the dream list of things to accomplish that day. I might have tomorrow evening to myself as well, but that's still up in the air. Most, of course, will probably result in my sprawling on the couch, playing the Sims and watching whatever marathon of documentaries is scheduled on the History Channel and the Discovery Channel, regardless of whatever else I actually get done. I hope at some point to talk to Minarae, either on the phone or AIM, about her exciting news (somewhat relating to my last entry... but on her end of things). I'll probably do some meditating that afternoon-- during a period where all three cats are crashed out and I can safely burn candles and incense without DriveBy!Gus risk. I have a ton of updates for the sorority website to put up, thanks to some feedback from alumni and a ton of background research work by two of the Omega actives. (hugs) Oh, and the never-ending attack at penpalling mail. But that's a given in my life, after all! And I'm done... more during the wonderful weekend. 4:25 p.m. - 15 July 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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