Someone asked me recently what braces feel like and it’s an interesting question, one I had to ponder rather than just blurting out “uncomfortable!” which was my first instinct. For a regular day-to-day experience, I’m at the point where I often don’t even notice them most of the time, but the brackets rubbing up against my lips is a kind of chaffing sensation and if I get a spot that’s irritated imagine a bad mouth sore and multiply that times 10, as the bracket rubs up against it, over and over (wax can only do so much!). I’ve yet to really find a good solution for that other than ample wax, various numbing solutions, salt water rinses, lots of water and a mental litany of “I know it’ll be worth it, I swear it’ll be worth it, oh please, let it be worth it!” on repeat.

It’s the actual tooth movement, though, that’s where things can get more painful. Take my last adjustment and the associated gremlins pulling out my teeth sensation, that was a pretty apt description. It was a rarity, though, that passed after a few days and now the spring doesn’t bother me, and I’m not even noticing it against my tongue. However, sometimes a tooth just randomly hurts; like a tooth ache. I’m still new enough to braces that I get a momentary flash of “uh-oh, should I make a dentist appointment?” before I remember “oh wait it’s probably movement” and it never fails, within a few days that tooth will have shifted and the ache will be gone.

So that is what it feels like, chaffing from the brackets and regular tooth aches from the movement. Oh and the occasional gremlin visit.

What a weird way of describing having braces put on, install, as though I’m a piece of machinery going in for an upgrade. Well, odd terminology or not, two weeks ago I had braces installed and I think I’m finally ready to share something about the experience. It can be summarized in two words, two words that will forever haunt my dreams, two words that send chills down my spine just contemplating typing, two words that probably won’t mean anything to most people, but trust me, they should. Those two words–tooth dust.

The application of the braces wasn’t painful. It was uncomfortable–you’re basically sitting there for a couple of hours with an awkward cheek spreader keeping your mouth open, with a suction device attached to your tongue keeping your mouth as dry as possible, fun! It isn’t a recipe for comfort, but it also isn’t a recipe for misery. However, because I was having lingual braces applied to the top arch I got a little something extra, a little something beyond the regular installation process.

I got to have my teeth micro-etched, to rough up the surface and make them suitable for slapping on those fancy golden brackets. This involved about 20 minutes of them sandblasting my teeth, sending the aforementioned tooth dust everywhere. I do mean everywhere. Once they were done I was white as a ghost because my face was covered in dust. I was choking from breathing it in, my shirt was covered, my hair was coated in teeny tiny particles of my teeth. Just the concept is horrifying. The teeth didn’t feel noticeably different, they weren’t smaller, they weren’t even really rougher. Where did all that dust come from?

It took hours of scrubbing before I felt like it was out of my hair; I may still need to burn those clothes. If you’ve ever sanded anything that produces super fine particles you might know what I’m talking about, now imagine that being…your teeth. The horror! If they’d have warned me about the dust I might have opted against the lingual braces. The speech problems, bah! A little extra poking to my tongue, who cares? Being covered in tooth dust while having them put on, dream haunting.