I've always had a really messed up mouth is the only way to put it. As a kid, I had to have tons of teeth extracted, and then it was discovered I even had a THIRD set up in my cheeks & gums! At around 8 or 9 years old it was brought to my parents attention that I had a genetic bite deformity. Basically I had an open bite of approx. a 1/2 inch, making it extremely difficult to bite into things like pizza & sandwiches. I also had a pretty severe underbite, to the point kids used to tease me calling me "bulldog" :( This also caused me to have a distinct lisp, which I was also teased mercilessly about.
After pulling many teeth they started with things like tongue thrust contraptions (essentially a FORK that came up from behind the back of my bottom teeth, to hold my tongue back... *very* archaic and aided to the teasing I was already enduring thankyouverymuch!) And then they realized my upper palate wasn't wide enough so they installed a rapid palate expander that had to be turned nightly by a "key" by yes, you guessed it, ME personally. All at the tender age of 9 years old. Of course, what kid wants to do this to themselves? None. So I used to pretend except when my parents would literally hold me down & do it themselves. Soon after braces were put on, and STAYED on until I was about 16! In between there were talks of how badly I *needed* jaw surgery & how if I didn't do it by the time I was in my 30's my teeth would fall out. The open bite was so bad that only 2 molars on one side, and 4 on the other, touched, making chewing and eating incredibly hard. At that age though, you just don't care what's supposed to happen when you're in your 30's, because you think by then you'll be "old, so what?" Still, my parents did everything they were told, spent money they didn't have, and prepared me for a surgery I didn't know I was being led to having. I only wish they would have stressed the importance of it to me, so that MAYBE by the time the day came, I would understand WHY I really needed it.
That however, did NOT happen. What did happen was that as I approached age 16, and the date of surgery, I set about asking all my friends "should I do it? What do you think?" Well what do you think other 15 & 16 year olds would say? If they're good friends (and they were!) they would say (and they did!) "No Lyd! Don't do something so painful! Why?!" "No Lyd, don't change who you are! This is the YOU that we LOVE!" or how about "who cares about your lisp? It's what makes YOU you!" And so with a wave of my dismissive hand I went to my parents & said "Not gonna do it, sorry. Don't want to. I've had enough of this constant pain & metal in my mouth. The constant teasing. Please have this junk taken out of my mouth NOW." Did I realize at the time how much time & expense my parents had put in? How many authorizations and red tape? How much sadness that they created a child with such bad mouth deformities? No. On all accounts. But I was 16, and I didn't care. Years of progress was undone in just a few short years.
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