The Secret of My Smile

If you have ever talked to me face to face, you will notice I love to smile. It goes along with laughing, but it's something that lights my whole face. Though some people know of my dark past with this $12,000 dollar smile, most of you don't.

When I was eight years old, my younger brother and I were playing in our backyard in Texas. Like all Military houses, it had a small strip of concrete as an attempt of a porch, and then the rest of the yard was grass. Our little humble piece of concrete was covered in an empty plastic baby pool, which for two children under ten years old, was a wonderful thing to have on the scorching summer days. But, as summer ended, the water was emptied, leaving the pool still a worthy plaything. Anyway, this day as we were playing outside, hide-and-seek was our game of choice. It came to be my turn, and in a spark of thoughtful brilliance, I hid under the already overturned pool. When Ben was done counting, he looked around for a moment, and then judging by the quickness of my sounds and the fact that I was nowhere to be seen in a quick count to 20, he figured out that I was under the pool. Meanwhile, I was curled up under it, in almost a fetal position, only instead of having my side against the ground, my knees and elbows were propping me up ever so slightly. Thinking it would be funny, he revved back, and then vaulted himself onto the pool.

Because of my position with my head down on the concrete slab, and the precise judgment from the five-year-old above me, my head smacked into the unmoving rock. Instantly, both of my lips split, and I felt extreme pressure in my mouth. I started to cry at once, and ran into my house, leaving my brother dazed, sitting on the pool. When my mother looked at me, blood covered and crying, she almost fainted. Not only was I bleeding profusely from my lips, tongue and nose, I also sported a cleanly shattered front tooth. My parents rushed me to a dentist, where they put a cap on my tooth. Being a second grader with funny teeth is no big deal. Kids are still losing and growing teeth in, so it was no big deal. After a while, I got a root canal, and a permanent cap.

Later, the summer before my first year of middle school, I was wrestling with a few of my cousins, as I usually do. I received a blow to my chin, and then an odd dense of dread returned as I felt something slide down my throat. As I pushed the boys off of me, I ran to bathroom, and a familiar face stared back at me. The "permanent" cap had come loose, and it was just my luck that I swallowed it. I once again started to cry. Sixth grade was a big step, and to be starting it in a new school among other things, having moved just a few months before, made it all the harder.

Middle school was hell. I don't know if you can add it up to my parent's laziness, or their lack of funds, but I went all three years of it with one and a half front teeth. Only during my first month of high school did they act, and only because the stubbed tooth was turning black. I had the tooth removed, and in the process, they shaved the three teeth around it down to act as bases for a bridge. This left me with a beautiful smile that I had always hoped for. I was happier than I ever had been, and on top of that, I was getting the attention I thought I deserved all along. the only thing was, was that they had shaved down the posts too small, leaving not enough base to hold the bridge on. Over and over again, they cemented it in, until a new round of x-rays showed that because of the initial trauma, my bone was decaying under my gums, therein lying the real problem. Again, nothing was done about it for years, until that fateful day in January of 2007. I was with a bunch of friends at the local Polar Bear Plunge, where were jump into 35 degree weather to benefit the special Olympics, and all was great. It was my best friends birthday, and we all had decided to party afterwards. By this time, my bridge was hardly staying in. When it was our turn to run into the freezing water, we did so, and having made a bet with each other earlier, we all dunked ourselves completely under. As I surfaced, I instantly began to chatter my teeth, thanks to the temperature, and at the same moment, I was elbowed by another wave of Plungers. The next thing I knew, I was clawing the water, watching the $4,000 piece of porcelain sway it's way to the bottom of the bay I was standing in, water up to my chest. I submerged myself for the next five minutes, to the point where the paramedics watching on yelled at me. Inconsolable, thinking only of how I was going to get killed, I broke down on the beach, shivering and a heaving wreck. I was numb not only from the frigid water and the prolonged exposure to it, but from fear and dread. The bus ride home was the longest of my life, as guilt was added to me, since everyone was worried about me, completely forgetting about my best friends birthday. I opted not to go to the party, feeling I would be a huge distraction.

Once home, I cried myself to sleep, and was hopelessly ignored by my mother, who was only thinking about the hole in her pocket this was going to cause her. I couldn't get warm, and was alone, since Josh was on a trip.

Later that week, I was sent to the dentist again, where they told me I was going to have to have the following done. A) Have invasive dental surgery to pull the three stubbed teeth out, since the bridge had failed; B) Have my wisdom teeth cut out at the same time C) Get my gums on my top jaw peeled back and stuffed with bone from a cadaver. All of this was just the first step. After a 2 hour surgery, and two weeks out of school during my senior year, here I am today, with four teeth missing up front, and a fake "flipper" made of plastic quite literally glued to my gums.

Next step - another tooth pulled, then braces, which will hold fake teeth ,to straighten my teeth. Then more bone graphs, and then four dental implants. When this last few steps will happen, I don't know.