How to be more awkward than anything imaginable.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you a story below that may actually win the prize as most awkward story yet.  An utterly difficult fete.  I will tell you right now, so there is no confusion, this did not happen to me.  Very important that there is clarity on that.  I do not want to confuse you, dear readers, or run the risk of anyone thinking something like this would actually happen to me.  It would not...not now...not ever.  I hope you find this as hilariously entertaining as I did.  Definitely worthy of its own post.  PS You may think it cruel that I am sharing this, but you will all thank me later.

After a semi-traumatic morning, I turned to one of my dearest friends, Naomi, to be consoled. Rather than receiving sympathy, however, I was asked to share my humiliating experience for her blog. Enjoy.

Every stage in life brings on new sets of changes and social norms that one is expected to fulfill. As a young adult, challenges and changes could include: moving to a new city, starting a new job, hating your new job, etc. However, once you reach this stage there are certain things/activities you expect to be finished with in your life. For me, those things include:

1). Visiting the orthodontist 

2). Vomiting all over said orthodontist

3). Vomiting all over self in the process

Well, my friends (I say this with my head hung in shame), all three of those things happened to me today. As a 24 year old. 

First, I have had LOTS of experience with orthodontists. When I was in kindergarten, I had a cross bite and had to wear a giant expander on the roof of my mouth and turn it with a key every night to fix the alleged cross bite. In the fourth grade, I had MASSIVE gaps in my front teeth, due to said expander, and had to get braces for four months. As a 13 year old, I went BACK to the orthodontists and had to get braces AGAIN and wear them for another year. Finally, as a 14 year old, the glorious moment came when I no longer had to wear braces. Each visit to the orthodontist was accompanied with getting impressions made of my teeth. For those who have never had this done, let me explain that it is basically a form of torture. I remember my eyes welling up with tears as a tiny 5 year old because the tray filled with GUNK was so big I could hardly breathe. 

To give you more background on my present debacle, when I was 16yrs old, my dog ate my retainer. I know, tale as old as time, but it is indeed true. Due to my lack of retainer, and to my horror, I was told 8 years later that my teeth have shifted once more. So, I find myself returning to my scarring past and visiting the dreaded orthodontist. We decided that all I needed was to keep my teeth from moving further and get fitted for another retainer. No braces. No expander. Easy and painless.  I wish.

This morning, I strolled back into my childhood orthodontist's office to get impressions made for my retainer. After waiting for nearly 30 minutes, I'm finally called back into the special room where they are made. First, the ortho mixes the nasty mold, puts it on the impression tray, and places it on the bottom row of my teeth. Three minutes later, when the mold is dry, it's taken out. Again, he mixes this ominous mold, puts it in the tray, and SHOVES it onto the top row of my teeth. It basically feels like being gagged. After one minute passes, I feel my eyes begin to water, another 10 seconds pass and I feel my very sensitive gag reflexes starting to respond, and 30 seconds later I am vomiting. Yes, vomiting.

BUT not worry, for as I vomit, the kind ortho gets the trash can and helps me sit up to aid the vomiting (no big deal). However, THE IMPRESSION TRAY IS STILL IN MY MOUTH! More vomit. On my sweater, in my hair, and worst of all, all over the orthodontist. But do not fear for my precious teeth, the impression continues to remain in my mouth. WHY?! Because it can't be taken out till it's dry! Two and a half humiliating minutes later, the impression is taken out of my mouth and it is time to clean myself off.  Again, my head is hung in shame. The ever so nice ortho says, "oh you are sensitive to these things" and hands me a wet towel. I clean my face, hair, and sweater. I do not try to clean the orthodontist, but how I wish I could...after crawling under the carpet and dying from the humiliation.

I left feeling like a child who just peed their pants in front of the whole class. To make things even better, I am sitting at my desk now and can still smell the noisome odor of the barf in my hair. And my wonderful "friend" Naomi is telling me to write this all down so she can share it with the world.  Needless to say, its been an awesome Wednesday.

Yours,

Hyper-Queasy