Clearly I’m not the cheating type

Though I survived my childhood without braces, by my early 20s it was no longer possible to ignore the movement of my once-straight teeth. So I asked my dentist about my options and he recommended Invisalign. I was sold—the clear, removable trays were a lot less noticeable than regular braces, which made me feel more confident in flirting with Ryan.

Well…the Invisalign didn’t do what my dentist said it would and there were a number of problems in working with him. (Problems like when I asked him about a chip on my front tooth, he said “We can fix that,” and leaned me back in the chair. I thought he’d fill the chip, but instead he FILED DOWN THE TOOTH. With his drill. Without asking. And he did it crooked. That doesn’t count as fixed.)

However, even though I’d have these bad experiences with my dentist, I was reluctant to see someone else. I’ve been going to this same dentist since I was little and even though there were all these problems, I just felt guilty leaving his practice. I’m like that, I guess.

Anyway, last week, I had a problem with my retainer. I asked the dentist to fix it, but he told me it was fine. And then, two days later, the retainer split in half. And that did it. Last straw.

I set up an appointment with Ryan’s orthodontist. And he was great. He wasn’t in a hurry. And he listened. It was so refreshing. I called Ryan and we made a plan for this new orthodontist to fix my teeth. I couldn’t have been more excited.

Then, about 20 minutes after I’d finished that appointment, I got a call…from my dentist.

My first thought? Oh. Crap. He knows. How did he find out? Did my new orthodontist call him? Is there a code of dentists that requires that? Crap.

This is how my brain works.

Turns out, it was just a routine call regarding the billing from my previous visit. But apparently I need to break up with my dentist before I can start seeing my new orthodontist.