Full Metal Racket

I have finally decided to delve into the medical and dental tourism trade that is booming here in India (though I am not technically a tourist). After several years of looking into orthodontics in the United States and being discouraged to learn of the high costs and almost non-existent coverage from our insurance company, I resigned myself to the idea of life with a crooked smile. I was interested in getting standard braces to straighten my twisted chicklets and found that it would cost me around $6000, with our insurance covering just $1000. If you could put a price tag on my vanity, you would find that $5000 is much more than I am willing to spend. But now that we are in India, procedures that were once out of the realm of possibilities are now not only possible, but also quite affordable, so I went out searching for an orthodontist. I had a couple of consultations and finally settled on an orthodontist who trained and practiced in England until a couple of months ago (I just now realized that maybe the training in England is not so impressive judging from English grills). Anyway, she is very nice and seems to really know her stuff, and she is based in the excellent hospital that Eric went to for his finger infection. Total cost of braces, X-rays, impressions, fixed retainer after the treatment, all appointments and any other hardware: $470. No joke (and by the way, I know that $470 is a lot of money for most Indians, blah, blah, blah. I don't want to get into that discussion again; I am speaking as a Westerner).



So Saturday afternoon I went and had the brackets glued on; having your mouth wide open and lips pulled back in a quite attractive snarl for 45 minutes after having your teeth acid-washed is truly under-rated. After ripping up the inside of my cheeks the entire weekend, I went yesterday for the main event; the arch wires. Ahhhh, I am really feeling it now. I don't even notice that my cheeks are like hamburger since I have the disturbing feeling that my teeth are going to fall right out of my head. I feel like Tommy Lee at the MTV Video Music Awards (that is, if Kid Rock didn't hit like a girl). Right now I am taking Tylenol to relieve the pain but Eric keeps pressuring me to get my hands on some Vicodin, I guess he wants me to end up like Rush Limbaugh. Hey, maybe he is right, who wouldn't want to end up like Limbaugh, a hateful hypocritical bigot with an approximate listening audience of 13.5 million weekly. I guess that his listeners must be able to forgive or forget the three divorces and drug addiction problems. Family values just aren't what they used to be, I guess; but I digress. Another popular suggestion for pain relief due to braces that I found on the web is smoking marijuana. Apparently one feels much better after smoking a blunt; the only trouble that I see with this suggestion is what do you do about the subsequent munchies??? Maybe these guys are right, I could end up like Bill Clinton (and, in fairness, probably almost every person in America). Right now I think that I will stick to my Tylenol. Anyway, I thought that I would include a pic of my new metallic look and also a poem that my friend Neha sent me about dentist woes, it is pretty accurate. Enjoy!





Ogden Nash

This Is Going To Hurt Just A Little Bit




One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open.



And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen.



Because some tortures are physical and some are mental,

But the one that is both is dental.

It is hard to be self-possessed

With your jaw digging into your chest.



So hard to retain your calm

When your fingernails are making serious alterations in your life line or love line or some other important line in your palm;



So hard to give your usual effect of cheery benignity

When you know your position is one of the two or three in life most lacking in dignity.



And your mouth is like a section of road that is being worked on.

And it is all cluttered up with stone crushers and concrete mixers and drills and steam rollers and there isn’t a nerve in your head that you aren’t being irked on.



Oh, some people are unfortunate enough to be strung up by thumbs.

And others have things done to their gums,

And your teeth are supposed to be being polished,

But you have reason to believe they are being demolished.



And the circumstance that adds most to your terror

Is that it’s all done with a mirror,

Because the dentist may be a bear, or as the Romans used to say, only they were referring to a feminine bear when they said it, an ursa,

But all the same how can you be sure when he takes his crowbar in one hand and mirror in the other he won’t get mixed up,
the way you do when you try to tie a bow tie with the aid of a mirror, and forget that left is right and vice versa?



And then at last he says That will be all; but it isn’t because he then coats your mouth from cellar to roof

With something that I suspect is generally used to put a shine on a horse’s hoof.



And you totter to your feet and think. Well it’s all over now and after all it was only this once.

And he says come back in three monce.



And this, O Fate, is I think the most vicious circle that thou ever sentest,

That Man has to go continually to the dentist to keep his teeth in good condition

when the chief reason he wants his teeth in good condition

is so that he won’t have to go to the dentist.