At Sears, the orthodontist said, "this will change your facial composition." I thought, "isn't that the point?" At PDS, the orthodontist told me that I had a good composition; basically, fix the overbite and things are cool.
Sears sent me a $300 coupon today. After I made a $300 non-refundable payment to PDS. Actually, the check wouldn't make a big difference--even with $300 off, Sears was still significantly more expensive than PDS. I think $1000 could lead me to give serious thought to Sears. But $300? Na, not cutting it.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Food and Braces
Because I will be on a three day sabbatical, I'll blog a second post now:
One of the papers I received as part of the paperwork for PDS stressed the importance of avoiding foods that can harm the braces--in place of an exhaustive list of specifics, using 'common sense' was stressed.
I remember my first braces journey, and how caramel was off-limits. For an 11 year old, that is distressing news. Now though my caramel consumption is slim-to-none, so the restriction will matter little to me.
Thankfully braces aren't sensitive to spicy food. I don't eat anything particularly hard, and none of the sticky garbage-candy that the young'ens do. And I can't imagine curries and other south/southeast/east Asian dishes will do any harm. Maybe the terrible sushi from Giant Eagle, which can be hard as a computer desk.
I'll probably cut out my Zone Nutrition bars; I was the only one who really liked them anyway and I think even I was beginning to grow weary of them. I'll stick to getting my vitamins from vitamin water. I also will avoid the smokehouse cheddar crackers that have been sitting on my desk, untouched by me, for about a month.
I'll probably also bid adieu to the occasional chocolate black raspberry from the Chocolate Mousse, though I may try to keep with getting desserts from the excellent Tango Cafe.
So, in total, braces should make me an even healthier eater, if a slightly less pleased one.
One of the papers I received as part of the paperwork for PDS stressed the importance of avoiding foods that can harm the braces--in place of an exhaustive list of specifics, using 'common sense' was stressed.
I remember my first braces journey, and how caramel was off-limits. For an 11 year old, that is distressing news. Now though my caramel consumption is slim-to-none, so the restriction will matter little to me.
Thankfully braces aren't sensitive to spicy food. I don't eat anything particularly hard, and none of the sticky garbage-candy that the young'ens do. And I can't imagine curries and other south/southeast/east Asian dishes will do any harm. Maybe the terrible sushi from Giant Eagle, which can be hard as a computer desk.
I'll probably cut out my Zone Nutrition bars; I was the only one who really liked them anyway and I think even I was beginning to grow weary of them. I'll stick to getting my vitamins from vitamin water. I also will avoid the smokehouse cheddar crackers that have been sitting on my desk, untouched by me, for about a month.
I'll probably also bid adieu to the occasional chocolate black raspberry from the Chocolate Mousse, though I may try to keep with getting desserts from the excellent Tango Cafe.
So, in total, braces should make me an even healthier eater, if a slightly less pleased one.
Thinking about two years from now
So, in two years, the bulk of the dental work should be done. I might be in retainer stage. I might be in surgery stage. I might be in more braces stage. But the end will in all likelihood be near for my dental work by then.
Two years is a very long time. In two years, I'll be twenty-six. Hopefully done with whichever my first graduate program will be. Hopefully living on my own, or with friends/roommates.
Two years ago, I was beginning my journey toward finishing my bachelor's degree at Pitt. Braces weren't on my mind. Losing weight was--I'd been dieting for just over a year and had dropped from an uncomfortable 195 pounds to 150 or so. In the next year, I'd drop 15 or so more lbs to stabilize at what I am now, a healthy 135-140 lbs.
Very little else is worth noting in this blog entry in terms of them and now. My life has had a very static quality to it during the last two years. The next two years should be far more mobile.
Two years is a very long time. In two years, I'll be twenty-six. Hopefully done with whichever my first graduate program will be. Hopefully living on my own, or with friends/roommates.
Two years ago, I was beginning my journey toward finishing my bachelor's degree at Pitt. Braces weren't on my mind. Losing weight was--I'd been dieting for just over a year and had dropped from an uncomfortable 195 pounds to 150 or so. In the next year, I'd drop 15 or so more lbs to stabilize at what I am now, a healthy 135-140 lbs.
Very little else is worth noting in this blog entry in terms of them and now. My life has had a very static quality to it during the last two years. The next two years should be far more mobile.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Simpsons flashback
I remember a Simpsons episode that I first saw around the time I first got braces (any impact it had on my braces experience is nebulous). Lisa needs to get braces, and is shown two models: the first, a tiny, cosmetically appealing creation, emits a pleasant perfume when moved. The second, a comically gigantic, metallic beast, spews a foul musk. Of course, Homer can't afford the former, so she ends up with the latter.
I wonder how much corrective oral technology has evolved in the last ten years. The Simpsons' depiction was obviously comically exaggerated, but I remember being straddled with a bizarre looking headgear that branched from my mouth and around my head. Headgear should go the way of the buffalo.
I don't know if there's a differential in the cosmetic quality of the braces at PDS and Sears; I'm inclined to believe there isn't. This aspect of the field should be fairly standardized. Several organizations have aggressively advertised the non-visible braces (invisiline), but those are only useful for very mild corrections.
I'll probably end up with a contraption somewhere in the middle of the two Simpsons models.
I wonder how much corrective oral technology has evolved in the last ten years. The Simpsons' depiction was obviously comically exaggerated, but I remember being straddled with a bizarre looking headgear that branched from my mouth and around my head. Headgear should go the way of the buffalo.
I don't know if there's a differential in the cosmetic quality of the braces at PDS and Sears; I'm inclined to believe there isn't. This aspect of the field should be fairly standardized. Several organizations have aggressively advertised the non-visible braces (invisiline), but those are only useful for very mild corrections.
I'll probably end up with a contraption somewhere in the middle of the two Simpsons models.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Competing estimates
I knew Pitt's dental school would be a cheaper option; I didn't know just how cheaper they would be. Well, it turns out about $2,000 cheaper. A 40% differential in price estimates is substantial, for sure.
Price isn't everything, though. A problem with the PDS is that I don't actually know all the specifics of the treatment yet. Whereas with Sears, where they were more than happy to lay everything out on the dental chair for you, PDS is unable to do so upon first consult, because the person you are consulting with may not actually be your orthodontist. I have a general idea of the plan of attack; what I don't yet know is if the specifics are going to match up with Sears'.
The lack of full information makes a full calculation next to impossible; competing levels of information can't really be treated as competing levels of benefit because the information isn't inherently beneficial--I could be lacking the information of a superior option. Of course, if I value certainty before committment, then this could be factored into the calculation as a variable that would support Sears.
I'm also not sure that both institutions are approaching the same goal. The PDS orthodontist was nice and obviously extremely knowledgable; she seemed to be approaching the treatment with the goal of making things better, however, as opposed to right. I don't want straighter teeth, I want straight teeth. I don't want a reduced gap between upper and lower jaw, I want no gap. She mentioned that there would always be some level of, for lack of the scientific term, offness, a fact which the Sears orthodontist may have known and simply concealed--basically, just as an E string will tend to drift slightly toward E even when tuned differently, so too will a misplaced toot drift toward its natural position. This apparently can be handled with routine little adjustments.
PDS has the geographical advantage--I enjoy the city more than the 'burbs, and I spend considerably more time in proximity to Pitt than in proximity to Sears. Moreover, a frequently running bus takes me close to PDS; there is no such option for Sears.
So, a quick run-down of the current strongpoints:
PDS: Price, Proximity
Sears: Certainty, No Interns peering awkwardly into my mouth as the orthodontist does his work
Now, time to decide. Actually, it's almost time for lunch. A decision can wait. My penchant for mango chicken curry, not so much.
Price isn't everything, though. A problem with the PDS is that I don't actually know all the specifics of the treatment yet. Whereas with Sears, where they were more than happy to lay everything out on the dental chair for you, PDS is unable to do so upon first consult, because the person you are consulting with may not actually be your orthodontist. I have a general idea of the plan of attack; what I don't yet know is if the specifics are going to match up with Sears'.
The lack of full information makes a full calculation next to impossible; competing levels of information can't really be treated as competing levels of benefit because the information isn't inherently beneficial--I could be lacking the information of a superior option. Of course, if I value certainty before committment, then this could be factored into the calculation as a variable that would support Sears.
I'm also not sure that both institutions are approaching the same goal. The PDS orthodontist was nice and obviously extremely knowledgable; she seemed to be approaching the treatment with the goal of making things better, however, as opposed to right. I don't want straighter teeth, I want straight teeth. I don't want a reduced gap between upper and lower jaw, I want no gap. She mentioned that there would always be some level of, for lack of the scientific term, offness, a fact which the Sears orthodontist may have known and simply concealed--basically, just as an E string will tend to drift slightly toward E even when tuned differently, so too will a misplaced toot drift toward its natural position. This apparently can be handled with routine little adjustments.
PDS has the geographical advantage--I enjoy the city more than the 'burbs, and I spend considerably more time in proximity to Pitt than in proximity to Sears. Moreover, a frequently running bus takes me close to PDS; there is no such option for Sears.
So, a quick run-down of the current strongpoints:
PDS: Price, Proximity
Sears: Certainty, No Interns peering awkwardly into my mouth as the orthodontist does his work
Now, time to decide. Actually, it's almost time for lunch. A decision can wait. My penchant for mango chicken curry, not so much.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
On the subject of pulling teeth...
No matter how unpleasant my eventual tooth extraction day will be, it will not be as bad as one from the movie Bug, which featured a character (played by Michael Shannon) who removes two of his own teeth in an insane fury. He, of course, has no access to novacaine. Ouch.
The most famous movie dental scene is from Marathon Man. Anyone who's seen the movie will remember the phrase "Is it safe?" If my dentist says that, I will assuredly run from the room.
The most famous movie dental scene is from Marathon Man. Anyone who's seen the movie will remember the phrase "Is it safe?" If my dentist says that, I will assuredly run from the room.
Like Pulling Teeth
The Sears orthodontist told me in no uncertain terms that tooth extraction was unavoidable given that my teeth are more crowded than Downtown Manhattan on a warm Saturday afternoon. I think he thought the news would be more cringe-inducing than I actually found it. Not that losing perfectly fine teeth in an inescapably painful and bloody process isn't a disgusting thought, but I was prepared for it. I figured that it had to happen.
It won't be the first time I have a tooth pulled. When I was young, 11 or so, a dentist removed a pesky baby tooth that refused to extricate itself from my body. It's a vivid memory; I can almost still taste the banana-flavored novacaine while seeing his gloved hands descend into my mouth for a not-so-gentle tug. Out comes the tooth, and thus starts the bleeding.
The bleeding doesn't stop as soon as I thought or hoped it would. My mother and I get out to the car, me still holding some parchment in my mouth to catch the continual blood flow, and I complain about the lack of cessation of the sanguine river. We agree that the dentist botched the procedure.
I'm sure the next tooth extraction operation will have a similar result of copious blood loss. The teeth guaranteed to go are on top, and I'm fairly sure that top gums bleed more than bottom gums since the blood is flowing down and not up (disclaimer: I was a poli sci and history major, NOT a bio major, so if that sounds utterly absurd to those in the know, I apologize).
The strange thing is that the orthodontist said 3 or 4. Four I can understand. 3? Wouldn't that result in things being a bit, erm, uneven? Well, he's the one with the doctorate...but 3? Really, 3?
I wonder if it's better to have them all done in one sitting. I think so. It makes the day one to be dreaded and ill-remembered, but then, better one ignomeneous day than two. It's not as if the level of dread would really diminish if it were only two teeth instead of three or four. The novavaine process likely takes only moderately longer for 3 or 4 teeth than 2. And once he's in there, he can get nice and warmed up after the first extraction. By the third or fourth one, he should be a pro. Wait...he should already be a pro.
I wonder what will happen to my ill-fated teeth. They're perfectly fine, really--I brush and floss daily; they have no cavities, no discoloration. It's a shame to see them go. It'll probably be more pleasant for him, pulling out non-abhorrantly decayed or discolored teeth. But then shouldn't he feel the same pang of remorse I will--perfectly fine teeth being sacrificed, like sending a good soldier on a death mission to save the rest of the platoon.
My guess is they will go into a trash can. Such a shame.
It won't be the first time I have a tooth pulled. When I was young, 11 or so, a dentist removed a pesky baby tooth that refused to extricate itself from my body. It's a vivid memory; I can almost still taste the banana-flavored novacaine while seeing his gloved hands descend into my mouth for a not-so-gentle tug. Out comes the tooth, and thus starts the bleeding.
The bleeding doesn't stop as soon as I thought or hoped it would. My mother and I get out to the car, me still holding some parchment in my mouth to catch the continual blood flow, and I complain about the lack of cessation of the sanguine river. We agree that the dentist botched the procedure.
I'm sure the next tooth extraction operation will have a similar result of copious blood loss. The teeth guaranteed to go are on top, and I'm fairly sure that top gums bleed more than bottom gums since the blood is flowing down and not up (disclaimer: I was a poli sci and history major, NOT a bio major, so if that sounds utterly absurd to those in the know, I apologize).
The strange thing is that the orthodontist said 3 or 4. Four I can understand. 3? Wouldn't that result in things being a bit, erm, uneven? Well, he's the one with the doctorate...but 3? Really, 3?
I wonder if it's better to have them all done in one sitting. I think so. It makes the day one to be dreaded and ill-remembered, but then, better one ignomeneous day than two. It's not as if the level of dread would really diminish if it were only two teeth instead of three or four. The novavaine process likely takes only moderately longer for 3 or 4 teeth than 2. And once he's in there, he can get nice and warmed up after the first extraction. By the third or fourth one, he should be a pro. Wait...he should already be a pro.
I wonder what will happen to my ill-fated teeth. They're perfectly fine, really--I brush and floss daily; they have no cavities, no discoloration. It's a shame to see them go. It'll probably be more pleasant for him, pulling out non-abhorrantly decayed or discolored teeth. But then shouldn't he feel the same pang of remorse I will--perfectly fine teeth being sacrificed, like sending a good soldier on a death mission to save the rest of the platoon.
My guess is they will go into a trash can. Such a shame.
Genesis
A few nights ago, I developed an overwhelming urge to have my teeth corrected. For years, I've considered it off and on, but, five days before my 24th birthday, I decided that it was time to take the economic plunge.
Last year, I received an estimate from an orthodontist recommended by my dentist. His figure was somewhere in the vicinity of $13-15,000; I forget the precise number because once one eclipses $10,000 for corrective oral work, things become a bit of a blur.
The high figure ceased any leaning I'd had to begin the whole braces process until Tuesday evening. I decided then to get estimates from Sears dental and the Pitt dental school, and after weighing the costs and benefits of each, deciding on the one that seemed the best.
To my surprise, Sears' estimate was just under $5,000. Ok, $5,000 is a lot of money. A LOT of money. But let's put it in perspective: That's a bit more than a third of the initial projection, and half of what my new maximum expenditure was set at (at that point, the extreme option of tooth extraction and dentures would become disgustingly more tenable).
On Monday I'll be getting the second estimate. I hope it will be at least 10% lower. Actually, I think as an alumni of Pitt, I should get a discount. I won't, of course, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't.
I decided to blog about my experiences because hey, it's something that should be interesting. And by interesting I mean painful and frustrating, with a distant ending (2-3 years) of that almost-perfect smile.
Last year, I received an estimate from an orthodontist recommended by my dentist. His figure was somewhere in the vicinity of $13-15,000; I forget the precise number because once one eclipses $10,000 for corrective oral work, things become a bit of a blur.
The high figure ceased any leaning I'd had to begin the whole braces process until Tuesday evening. I decided then to get estimates from Sears dental and the Pitt dental school, and after weighing the costs and benefits of each, deciding on the one that seemed the best.
To my surprise, Sears' estimate was just under $5,000. Ok, $5,000 is a lot of money. A LOT of money. But let's put it in perspective: That's a bit more than a third of the initial projection, and half of what my new maximum expenditure was set at (at that point, the extreme option of tooth extraction and dentures would become disgustingly more tenable).
On Monday I'll be getting the second estimate. I hope it will be at least 10% lower. Actually, I think as an alumni of Pitt, I should get a discount. I won't, of course, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't.
I decided to blog about my experiences because hey, it's something that should be interesting. And by interesting I mean painful and frustrating, with a distant ending (2-3 years) of that almost-perfect smile.
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