#i think i might bite my orthodontist next time i see him

[tvonq]

i was tagged by @ten-l ily hannahhhhh 🥰WAIT I DIDNT GET A TAG FOR IRIS :(((( @leejnos IM SORRY I LVOE YOU :(( <3 (rules are to bold what applies to you)

~ appearance ~

i am over 5’5 // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing over tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball caps backwards

~ hobbies and interests ~

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with my friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

~ relationships ~

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have hooked up with my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have had a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

~ aesthetics ~

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

~ miscellaneous ~

i can fall asleep in moving vehicles // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote(s) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least 3 dogs

i tag @mnhynq @yunhourl @suntual @b1ngsu @hendiry @hyuckult @namaaz but you dont have to if you dont want to! <3 

[learning2fly05]

12/20/2020:

So my last post pissed me off since it didn't save anything I wrote after my edit. Anyways, I've been taking my days day by day as I said. I took another day off from work and it got approved. I also changed my shift for 2 of my other days. I need to spend time with my family if they took their time to come down here and visit me.

We had a scare recently. One of our family members, oddly enough my father-in-law, got a positive covid test. He has underlying conditions and are extra careful for him. With that in mind we quarantined ourselves for 2 weeks after we found out. Recently everyone got tested and all came back negative. Our father-in-law will get tested some time this week and hopefully it'll come negative. The only reason he tested in the first place was cause he was gonna do a procedure and they needed him to be tested. So we shall see how it goes for him. Everyone else in the family got tested as well and came out negative. No one had symptoms from it and so we are confused from it all. The swab hurt and I'm not gonna lie.

Before all this happened I went to my dentist appointment and found out I got 3 cavities. I got a couple of times before that I might have one, then gone to another dentist and got told nothing, so I dismissed it. I got told about my bite again and said no thanks to seeing an orthodontist. I've been through that when I was younger and if it's not gonna affect me or my future in any way, then I don't see it necessary. I also got my eyes checked and well went to my prescription I started when I started to wear contacts. I found it odd, but it can happen. I was going to get my physical or woman's appointment recently, but due to the covid news I had to reschedule my appointment. I prepped myself for this appointment and then this happened. I made all these appointments cause I was thinking of quitting my job. Like I mentioned before I decided not to quit.

I hope come the new year that a department within the company I'm in opens up so that I don't have to deal with a lot of rules and lines of businesses. I already got trained again for a line of business that I grew anxious with and told my supervisor to take me off from it. Yet my department hasn't received a call from that line of business since they hired more people strictly for that. So I'll be more at ease with it after awhile. I also got trained to take over a responsibility within my department. I think I just need to get used to it and find my groove with it to feel better at it. I also got the okay to shadow other people from other departments so I can figure out where I would like to go come February, my 6 month period.

I'm gonna try not to call out anymore, if possible, and ask for days off. So I guess you can say that things are falling into place for me and my mental health. I also took up painting again and have an idea going on, so we shall see how it comes out in the end. I'm just not sure why my mind drifts to the idea I had earlier of my funk. I catch myself from time to time doing so and ponder on it for a very brief moment. Why even drift there? I know it's just a thought and to leave it at that, but it still bugs me so. Everything else is falling into place and working on my favor, but why can't this one not go away or just get me back to normal. I had to order more of my Brillia and just received it, 3 months worth, so we shall see that goes as well. Anyways I hope my short week that's coming up cause of Christmas is calm and very few calls for all of us including next week. I feel like I need to eat my oreo blast now.

[anistarrose]

The Gingerbread Shacks (GF Holiday One-Shot)

Summary: Nothing ignites sibling rivalries like a challenge to replicate a tourist trap in gingerbread.

Word Count: ~1500

Warnings: none

(Disclaimer: I have not personally tried any of the baking-related things done by characters here, so if you attempt something like this at home, do not expect this fic to predict your results.)

“Grunkle Ford, what happened in here?” Dipper asked as he entered the kitchen. “Those dessert pixies didn’t come back again, did they?”

It was a valid question, seeing as nearly every flat surface within an eight-foot radius of Ford was covered in flecks of either frosting, powdered sugar, or both — not to mention Ford himself, whose hair had accumulated so much sugar that the stripe of lighter gray was indistinguishable from the rest.

“Nothing of the sort, don’t worry,” Ford replied cheerfully, his attention staying fixated on the object on the kitchen table as he slathered it with frosting from a Sasquatch-themed bowl. “I’m just making a gingerbread Mystery Shack. See?”

Dipper gave the structure a closer look as Ford pressed cutout gingerbread letters H, A, C, and K into the frosting, and then haphazardly tossed an S onto the tray below. It really was quite a good replica of the Mystery Shack, as long as you looked at it from the right angle to actually notice the boundaries between all the white-coated pieces.

“Is there even any gingerbread in there, or is it all just frosting?” Dipper asked.

“Well, that’s a funny story,” Ford began. “You might have inferred from the general state of this kitchen —” He gestured around, and a plume of powdered sugar escaped to the air from his sleeve. “— that I’ve had to make a few different batches. That’s because the first batch wasn’t stiff enough to hold the gingerbread pieces together at the angles I needed, so I had to increase the sugar content. First I tried to simply mix additional sugar into the frosting I already had, but that didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, so I had to make a new batch, but I knocked that bowl into the sink… you get the idea. It’s been an ordeal. And when I finally made a satisfactory batch, there was already frosting all over the gingerbread from my first attempt, so I decided to make one more bowl full just so I could cover the whole thing in frosting and have it be uniform.”

He pulled out a Jersey Devil-themed bowl, this one full of red, white, and green sprinkles, and declared: “Just one final touch left to include. Stand back!”

He swung the bowl towards the gingerbread Shack like he was going to throw it, stopping at the last moment as sprinkles rained onto the icing and leaving the Shack looking like a Christmas tree had exploded next to it. Then he repeated the procedure on all sides, and poured the leftover sprinkles onto the roof, grinning widely and happily as he gazed at his creation.

“Did you and Mabel swap minds or something?” Dipper asked incredulously. “What… what even prompted you to make this?”

“Well, Melody was talking about how she’d wanted to make a gingerbread Mystery Shack but ran out of time before the holiday,” Ford explained. “Then Stanley said that he could make one, and I expressed skepticism that he could — so now we’re competing to see who can make the better gingerbread Shack. He’s been working on his at the table in the living room, I believe.”

Ford paused for a moment, contemplative. “You know, I really hope he’s not making as much of a mess as I am,” he murmured, as if the thought was just occurring to him.

“Oh, you’re competing with Stan,” Dipper said. “That explains a lot.”

He heard the door to the porch slamming shut, and a moment later, Mabel, Soos, and Melody entered the kitchen, having apparently returned from their run to the grocery store to replenish dwindling hot chocolate supplies.

“Ooh, Grunkle Ford, are you done with your Shack?” Mabel gasped, leaving noticeable footprints on the sugar-coated floor as she rushed up to examine Ford’s creation. “I see you took some artistic liberties, but I like it! Very festive!”

“Artistic liberties are for amateurs who can’t pull off realism!” Stan barked from the other room. “I haven’t even seen Poindexter’s yet, and I know it’s gonna look like a tree threw up on it!”

“I recall you saying something very different about artistic liberties whenever your taxidermy work came up!” Ford shot back.

There was a pause, and then: “You get your smartass remarks in now, Ford, ‘cause once you lay eyes on this masterpiece you’re gonna have no choice but bow down to my mastery of the gingerbread craft! Ugh, my back is killing me —”

Stan staggered into the kitchen, carrying his gingerbread Shack on a blue plastic tray. As everyone moved to the sides of the room to let him get through, a few impressed gasps could be heard — even from Ford himself, though he’d naturally deny it later.

“So? Whaddya think?” Stan’s smug grin was growing wider by the second.

“Set them down next together, so we can judge them!” Soos told him.

Stan did as he was told, and placed down his creation next to Ford’s. While both Shacks had almost exactly the same dimensions, and had featured the letters HACK on a sign with the S down on the tray, the differences ended there. Ford’s was mostly devoid of further detail, but Stan’s had gumdrops and other candies lining almost every edge, and additional gingerbread pieces attached to form triangular windows. There was even a tiny question mark weathervane, though it was held together by toothpicks and the letters WHAT were replaced by gumdrops.

Soos stood between them and held up both his forearms perpendicular to the floor. “Let’s check the Gingerbread-O-Meter…”

On Ford’s side, he turned his arm about forty-five degrees, and then just a bit further extra as Mabel chanted “Go! Go! Go!” and Stan yelled “Hey!”

On Stan’s side, he turned his arm about the same amount in the opposite direction, and then a decent amount further as Dipper and Melody cheered. Ford scowled and raised his hands in exasperation as it became obvious who was in the lead.

“Looks like we have a winner, folks!” Soos declared. “Mr. Pines, you’re the first ever Annual Mystery Shack Gingerbread Bake-Off-A-Thon Extravapalooza Champion!”

“Haha!” Stan cheered. “Eat it, Ford! Except maybe don’t literally eat it, ‘cause —”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me!” Mabel piped up. “Gotta make sure it tastes as good as it looks!” With a surprising amount of effort, she yanked a piece of the roof off of Stan’s gingerbread Shack.

“No, Mabel, wait — please don’t —”

She popped it into her mouth, and her expression lit up as she chewed. “Grunkle Stan, that is fantastic! I can’t place all the favors, but I think you might just be a culinary genius as well as an artistic one!”

“Really?” Dipper said. “Let me try some.”

He took a bite from a piece that had fallen loose when Mabel removed hers, and immediately spat it out with so much force that it flew clear across the room and stuck to the wall. After running to the sink and rinsing his mouth, he finally choked out the words:

“Grunkle Stan, did you glue this together? That was nasty!”

Stan gave a slight shrug, arms folded and eyes pointed towards the ceiling. “Uh, maybe. Don’t worry, though, I only buy the nontoxic stuff.”

“Stanley, I trusted you,” Ford told him, voice dripping with the exaggerated drama of feigned betrayal. “And you go and disregard the rules of our competition entirely.”

“Hey, remind me when you said I couldn’t use glue? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t. See, no rules disregarded! I keep track of these things!”

“It was implicitly stated! We agreed to make gingerbread houses, and gingerbread houses are by definition meant to be edible —”

“Glue is edible, you just have to have an open mind!” Mabel chimed in. “Don’t let society’s ideas about food control you!”

Ford sighed. “You know what, let’s compromise. The two of us can split first place.”

“You guys are the only two who even participated,” Melody pointed out. “If you two tie, there’s no first place. That’s the only place.”

“Yes, but we don’t have to explain the details of the competition to everyone who learns that we’re the first ever Annual Mystery Shack Gingerbread Bake-Off-A-Thon Extravapalooza Co-Champions,” Ford replied. “It sounds rather impressive without context, doesn’t it?”

“Now you’re thinkin’, Sixer!” Stan threw his arm over his brother’s shoulders, and started chanting: “Pines! Pines! Pines!” Ford joined in too, raising a mug of hot chocolate in celebration.

Mabel handed Dipper a frosting-covered piece from Ford’s gingerbread Shack, and started munching on another piece from Stan’s.

“I thought you quit eating glue when you were ten,” Dipper said.

In between bites, she replied: “It was out of season for a while.”

“Out of season for three years? That’s not how seasons work!”

Mabel shrugged. “I dunno. Just don’t tell my orthodontist.”

***

Thanks for reading, comments/reblogs are really appreciated as always! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and to those who don’t, hope your day has been great!

[captainswangsfresh]

Swangs braces headcanon

I’m sorry this isn’t exactly what you asked for but I hope it’s alright @cathylambre It got a bit long so most of it’s under the cut

If you asked Sweet Pea about braces now he’d either lie and say his teeth were always that perfect or emphatically rant about how he had braces for ‘like 8 years’ and that he hates them. 

Truth is, he had them for about a year and a half and was a pain in the ass the whole time.

It started well. He was 13 when he found out he was getting them and Fangs had to listen to him excitedly saying “it’s gonna be like knuckle dusters for my teeth”  about thirty times in the week leading up to the appointment.

Then he actually gets them. He’s fine, around most of the serpents, saving face Fangs is sure but the moment it’s just them, hanging out watching old films on the beat up tv at Sweet Pea’s he won’t stop bitching. “It feels fucking weird, you know I can’t chew gum anymore? I have to use a fucking wire brush to get shit out of my teeth. I can’t drink soda Fangs! Or OJ.  Man, they’re slicing my gums up.”

The last one is probably the most frustrating because no matter how much Fangs tries to convince him to get some wax for them Sweet Pea refuses. “I’m not a pussy, I don’t need it.”

It takes Fangs four days to take it into his own hands and go get some wax from the dentist for him. but then when he gives it to Sweet Pea he still doesn’t use it, so he recruits Toni and some other younger serpents to pin him down and hold his mouth open while Fangs coat his braces in the no doubt foul tasting wax. When they finally let him go Sweet Pea goes to bitch before he realizes how good it feels to not have his mouth being sliced to pieces and bitterly snatches the rest of the sticks from Fangs.

For a while, thing are fine again. Sweet Pea still bitches about not being able to chew gum or eat apples and the stupidly long way he’s forced to brush his teeth. Occasionally conversations will come to an abrupt halt when he chokes on a bit of wax that had dislodged itself from the metal.  Then he has his next appointment and they get tightened.

and Sweet Pea is in unfucking bearable agony. He’s been punched, kicked, broken bones and once even lightly stabbed but none of that compared to the torment of tightened braces.

He can’t put the wax on because touching his teeth hurts, breathing hurts, his freaking jaw hurts and it’s just a pain in the ass. Every time he tries to eat, even overcooked mac and cheese it leaves fire dancing through his mouth and his eyes tearing up despite him wishing they wouldn’t.

At first, it’s hilarious to Fangs. The ‘oh so powerful now fourteen-year-old’ Pea being brought down by some wire acting like an overdramatic man baby. and then he sees Sweet Pea trying to eat a bit of sponge cake and the way tears flood his eyes and he tosses it away with a glare and refuses to try and eat anything for the rest of the day and then he’s worried because surely that can’t be normal. When there’s food to be eaten Sweet Pea will always happily inhale enough for a small army if given the chance.

After Sweet Pea actually admits that it feels like someone has taken a jackhammer to each and every tooth it’s not uncommon for Fangs to appear with jello cups or a thermos full of soup and force them on the grumpy looking Sweet Pea

It takes Sweet Pea two months to say ‘fuck it’ to the no apples or gum rule. Sweet peas gums bleed for three days even with the wax before the orthodontist can see him to fix the wires the apple broke. (The asshole also tightens them again, Fangs says it serves him right but pulls out a jello cup like a magician). Fangs laughs so hard he cries when Sweets tries gum though. IT’s fine, at first, until it gets curled around the wire and Sweet Pea spends over an hour in the bathroom with his stupid wire brush desperately trying to pick it out while Fangs howls in the corner and tries to take photos.

He does, eventually prove the ‘braces are like tooth knuckle dusters’ ideology. 

It’s about eight months into having braces, of only really feeling comfortable actually smiling at Fangs who doesn’t mock him for his metal mouth and gives him soft food when his teeth hurt and generally taking care of him, when an older kid from school, and a ghoulie at that, starts giving Fangs shit about being sweet pea’s wife. That alone they both could ignore, sure, Sweet Pea would like to punch the guy but Fangs was giving him the ‘You do something stupid and I’ll steal all your jello when you get those things tightened’ look. But then the kid grabs Fangs hard enough to make him wince and Sweet Pea’s swinging before he can think it through.

They’re bigger, older, stronger and have more of them to the few baby serpents so the fight isn’t exactly going their way and Sweet Pea gets pinned and just goes for a bite because why not. 

The amount of blood is actually quite impressive, the fact some of it is in Sweet Pea’s mouth is not but it’s enough to get the ghoulie screaming, hand clutching his arm as blood spilt between his fingers and the others to retreat with one look at the crazed looking sweet pea, blood that’s definitely not his own spilling past his lips.

Sweet Pea gets shit for it. Both from the older serpents for starting a fight with the ghoulies and from people at school who bump into fangs and mutter “Careful, his wife might claw your eyes out.”

When he gets to chose a color for the brackets he chooses green ‘It’s like a snake’ Fangs smiles through it and tries not to let it show on his face that it just looks like sweet pea has a ton of spinach stuck n the braces.

Toni holds no such reservations. Sweet Pea makes it his personal vendetta to piss her off by getting more and more ridiculous shades of green whenever he’s allowed to change color.

Sometimes when Sweet Pea gets them tightened and Fangs is over he’ll let him lay his head in his lap and just run his hands through his hair while Sweet Pea bitches about the ache in his teeth and gorges himself on jello.

When Fangs is mad at him he’ll make a point of loudly chewing gum next to him. He once got everyone in the white wyrm to eat an apple the moment Sweet Pea walked in when he’d fallen asleep before texting Fangs that he was home safe after a fight at school. 

Sweet Pea used to have a habit on chewing the collars on his shirts while watching movies, that stopped when he somehow managed to get his braces caught in the top and Fangs had to cut the shirt to free him.

He LOVES getting elastic bands for his braces though. Fangs hates it. Sweet Pea will just sit with his mouth gaping open flicking at the elastic. He said he was making music, Fangs just thinks he’s spraying everyone with his spit, Toni agrees with Fangs. Swee Pea just keeps twanging away until Fangs wrestles him to the floor and yanks the dumb elastics out of his mouth because “we're trying to fucking eat dude.”

Fangs isn’t so worried about sharing spit when it comes to their first kiss. Probably because they don’t really get that far. 

Their first kiss is a disaster. Not in the way of they don’t enjoy it, it’s strange, sure, neither of them have done it that much. Sweet Pea especially having looked like the terminator got his mouth pregnant for the past year and four months. But it’s nice, at least, it’s nice when sweet peas leaning in, all anxious enthusiasm and a voice in his head screaming ‘don’t screw up your friendship just because you may or may not be falling n love with your best friend’ and Fangs is leaning in as well, breath shaky and nervous and Sweet Pea knows he’s going to taste like the strawberry Jello they just ate and it’s going to be AWESOME because Fangs is leaning in too! 

And then they both dive forwards their lips actually meet and ..well.It does taste like strawberry for all of a second until Sweet pea’s braces are cutting Fangs lips from where he’d leaned into it a ‘bit’ too enthusiastically and it tastes like blood and Fangs is swearing and Sweet Pea’s reminded from the bump that he got his braces tightened one last time and his teeth are in agony over the small collision and they’re both of the floor clutching their respective injuries.

They laugh about it, once Fangs has cleaned the blood up and Sweet Pea’s teeth have returned to a steady level of agonizing pain rather than the throbbing ache it was before. Fangs still pressed another kiss to his lips, feather light and thankfully no one gets hurt even though there’s a bit of his blood smeared on Sweet pea’s lips.

When Sweet Pea gets them removed he comes home to find a freaking bushel of apples and toffee and gum and fucking cola and ignores it all in favor kissing Fangs now that he can’t accidentally cut him with the metal in his mouth.

It’s still a bit unsure and awkward and kind of wet but they’re getting better and it leaves Sweet Pea grinning with his newly freed teeth. 

He spends the next two weeks complaining that his teeth feel too big for his 

Fangs has a small scar on his upper lip from their first kiss and Sweet Pea will forever be weirdly proud of giving it to him.

[trollhunter-nomura]

Ch 4 conflicting interests

As exciting as the previous night was, Nomura was hoping for a little bit of normalcy during the day, and aside from the class field trip that had come, and Strickler being ever bored, which considering he taught history in school, it was ironic that a history museum would bore him. Things were uneventful, tho one teenager was trying to find nude neanderthals or something for some reason. She never really liked teenagers, they were rather obnoxious.

Later that evening however was when things got interesting.

She sat in the employee lunchroom of the museum, enjoying a nice cup of oolong tea. Tho Blinky had given her some tea last night in Trollmarket, she much preferred her own blend. She read over some shopping invoices for incoming packages to the museum. Some were for new exhibits, and some were coded. Those were pieces of the bridge to be added when other fragments arrived.

"So, did you hear about the new trollhunter?" A voice asked, entering the room.

Nomura turned her head to the door to see a tall lanky middle-aged man. Strickler, or Stricklander as his real name was, was another shapeshift. He always wore a hideous olive green jacket over turtleneck sweaters. Even in the summer.

"What about it?" She asked, looking back to her paperwork she was sorting.

"According to Bular, the trollhunter is human. Or appears to be."

Nomura let out a chuckle. "What do you mean 'appears to be'?"

"I'm not sure, but according to Bular, the human seemed to have unusual abilities." He poured himself a cup of tea, then promptly spit it out. She smiled. Her tea was of an unusual blend, and can be rather strong if you weren't used to it like she was.

"How so?" She asked, leaning back in her chair, taking a sip of the tea.

"I'm not too sure." Strickler sat down at the table. "I wasn't there, but according to Bular, she seemed to managed to jump over his head. And as far as I'm aware, no human should be able to jump almost ten feet in the air."

"Really?" She asked, pretending to be impressed. "Where is the brute anyways?"

"Hunting." Strickler answered, rolled his eyes.

"What?" That was not good news.

"Yes, I know." Strickler continued,noting the look of apall on her face. "But he barely listens to reason. I managed to convince him to go elsewhere lest we be found out by authorities."

She nodded, pondering. She looked at the papers in front. Tho many were for bridge pieces, one in particular was something she'd been waiting for. She wondered when she would bring it to Bular's attention.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think this human trollhunter was actually a changeling." Strickler's voice brought her from her thoughts.

She gave a rather smug smile. "If the trollhunter were a changeling, you would think they'd value their live's enough to come forward immediatly with the amulet, wouldn't they?"

Strickler seemed to be trying to read her reactions. He may be older than she was, but she'd had better practice at subterfuge. He usually allowed his Humanity to get the best of him. She hated her humanity.

"You would think that. Regardless, a human or a changeling trollhunter is not the norm. If it is a changeling, they probably wouldn't last as long as most of the previous trollhunters."

Nomura looked over. "Indeed. Bular would certainly make quick work of them, human or changeling."

Nearby a clock started chiming. It was midnight.

"Well, if Bular isn't coming tonight, I need to go and sort the incoming packages. Don't you have a history class to bore tomorrow?"

Strickler scowled at her remark, but left either way. Once she was certain he was gone, she went to the safe in her office to retrieve her purse. Checking to see that the amulet and horngozzle were still there, she headed off to Trollmarket.

....

Over the next few weeks she got into a bit of routine of her trollhunter duties. While she couldn't really "answer the call" while she was running the museum, she managed to slip those between lunch and dinner and dodging Bular. Alot of the things she was asked to do were rather inane, such as clearing out a couple gnome infestations. She knew not to touch their hats, but even so all she wanted to do was punt the whole lot and their constant bickering.

Tho one request she got was really curious, from a troll named Bagdwella. She asked Nomura if she could deliver an ornate box to her sister who lived in a sewer on the other side of town, and to be very careful that only her sister can open it. Nomura looked over the box. She still had difficulty reading trollish. But she could make out some of the characters. She looked at the robust troll.

"This doesn't contain a curse, does it?" She asked wryly.

Bagdwella looked offended at the accusation. She demanded for Nomura to return it. Nomura shook her head. She didn't know the extent of the curse, but judging from the carvings it may have had to do with gravity.

"I'm sorry, but as the trollhunter, I can't on good conscience let you have this back. Whatever issue you have with your sister I'm sure it could be resolved more civil than a silly curse."

Bagdwella huffed and stormed off back to her stall. Nomira looked over the box knowing exactly what to do with it. A sensible trollhunter would lock it away in the vault. She had a better idea. She would send it to a changeling named Gladysgoro. She worked as a dental assistant and loved to torture children for fun behind the orthodontist back. She may not have liked children too much, but some things can go to far.

...

After dealing with the box she went towards the forge where she could train. Tho she felt she could hardly call it training. She wondered if Blinky was taking things slow and easy because she was a "human woman." Because lately the only thing that excited her from training was when Blinky taught her the lore. As a historian she loved learning new things.

"Blinky is there anything else that this place has to offer, I feel as if there's more to this trollhunter training." She asked, hooking her sword to her hip.

"Well Master Nomura, I don't want to overtax you."

She rolled her eyes. "Come now, I may be human, but I believe I can take much more than what your having this place dish out."

A voice laughed from the stands. Ever since their little duel, Draal has made it a point to sit in on every one of her training sessions. You'd think he didn't trust her! She got an idea.

"You think you could train me better, tough guy?" She called up to him.

"Master Nomura, perhaps it would be best that you don't antagonize him?" Blinky said, nervousness tinging his voice.

She gave the four armed troll a warm smile. "I'm sure Draal is more barl than bite."

At her remark Draal jumped from the high stand, landing a few feet from them. He walked over to them, leaning on a fist to look over her.

"If I were to train you, I would work you within an inch of your life." He growled.

Nomura smiled at him. "Well, I'm always up for more excitement. I figure you can do my physical training here, and Blinky, I'll still come by your library for the literary learning"

Blinky looked between Draal and Nomira unsure what to say, but smiled at her request he still teach her in ways he knew. He nodded.

"Very well then. As you wish, Master Nomura . I will leave you to Draal." He walked out, ARRRGGGH following.

Once they were out of earshot, Draal stomped close to her.

"What game are you playing now, Trollhunter?" He nearly spat the last word. He put as much contempt in that title than he normally would in using the word 'impure.'

"I'm not playing any games here. I want a more effective training." She smiled at him innocently.

"I don't buy that. I don't know how long you plan on stretching this scheme of yours, whatever it is. But know this: I will not let history repeat itself."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Merlin's made mistakes in the past. One mistake nearly led to the destruction of troll Market. If it came to it, I WILL kill you. Even if it meant forfeiting any chance of obtaining The Amulet. I will NOT let Blinky go through that again."

She shook her head. "Draal your not making any sense."

He sneered at her ignorance.

"Why don't you just look up Tellad-Urr the Terrible." He stormed out After that, leaving her ever Clueless.

She looked around the heroes Forge, trying to pick out this terrible troll that Draal was talking about. The name seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't think of why. Until she saw him. she recognized the form of the supposed evil troll, but she didn't know enough of the story. She was going to need to do some research.

......

For those who do not know who Tellad-Urr is, he is a troll hunter from the tie-in book series. He was in "Age of the amulet" and essentially helped gunmar rise to power. He imprisoned any trolls who refused to subjugate humankind. Blinky was a very young troll in this book, so it was well before Draal's time. But he knows well enough about the events. I hadn't planned on mentioning anything from the books, and this might be the only time.

[stretchjournalemerson]

Pain Management

By Maura Grace Cowan

For decades, I have been told, Mema’s fingers smelled of nicotine, trailing the scent of a pack a day and a love that ate away at my grandfather until it swallowed him whole just five months after I was born. After that, an already vicious candy habit became a lifelong method of staying cigarette-free. She said that it kept her mouth busy and her head on straight.

We were alike in that way– her weakness was See’s Candies butterscotch lollipops, and I favored peppermints to focus. It was not uncommon, during the five years that she lived in our home, to find us next to each other in the living room, teeth clacking on our respective hard candies until I finished my work or she tired of the barrage of bad news.

Her other method of oral fixation was toothpicks, little orange slivers that she dropped as she hobbled from room to room. Truthfully, that was about all she left behind– plastic wrappers and wood chips, breadcrumbs that led me back through the years after she was gone.

I was home for Christmas during my freshman year of college when she passed, as suddenly as one can pass after almost a century of life. It was California dreary out, with a blank sky and a bad attitude. She was three thousand miles away by then, but the West Coast was mourning. That night, I popped a coffee-flavored See’s lollipop in my mouth. It was the last thing I would bite into for days.

My wisdom teeth were never wise enough to grow in the correct direction, and with my already small jaw, their removal was an inevitability. We had made the appointment the previous summer, hoping to control the problem before it started. The timing could not have been predicted. But I would have signed away a world of hurt down the line if I could have absolved myself of surgery on the morning after my grandmother’s death.

My orthodontist was a genial Scottish man in his fifties. I had met him just once before, for our consultation. He charmed me immediately by recognizing my name and its correct pronunciation– “Gaelic, o’course,” he had said cheerfully. Mema would have been smitten. She always loved accents– anything about people, really, cultures and language and history. She told me once that she had lived so many stories that she couldn’t help wanting to hear everyone else’s. This was what I was thinking about when he began to rattle off the medications he would prescribe me for the weeks after the operation.

“Oh, I don’t need the strong stuff,” I interjected. “I’ll be just fine with the Ibuprofen, I’ve got a lot of grit.”

He chuckled, handing me a stack of forms.

“I don’t doubt it, Maura. Let’s just see how you’re feeling afterwards, eh?”

I was the last of my friends from high school to get their wisdom teeth out. I had stayed the night with Amelia right after the surgery, brought ice cream for Tyler every day for a week. I knew that there would be no conversation or ‘seeing how I felt.’

I am not taking those pills.

I have never lived at extremes. Modesty and moderation were ingrained in me before I could pronounce either word, by my mother and Mema and their working-class sensibilities. And if nothing else, I have held myself to those principles. In high school, even on the rare occasions that I allowed myself to go out on weekends, it was a point of pride that I knew my limits. I was never the least sober in the room– often, I was the most by far. I never, ever, lost control.

The assistant was a young, lanky man– almost a boy, really, I noticed as he plunged the IV drip into my arm. I imagined babbling to him when I woke up, making a fool of myself, having to be carried out like I once carried my high school friend when she mixed Vicodin and vodka.

“Don’t give me too much,” I remember pleading. “Look at me. Promise me that I will walk out of here on my own.”

He must have listened, because when I came to, it was with a surprisingly clear head. At least, the part of my head that I could feel was clear. I spent the car ride home in silence, poking at the numbness, pushing down the tears that were welling up in my eyes.

Healing happened, slowly and awkwardly. A prescription of Hydrocodone sat on my dresser unopened; I refused everything but aspirin and a steady supply of vanilla pudding. Instead, I spent my days drifting between sleep and discomfort, but I suffered in silence. The whole house, after all, was suffering too.

Mema was not an affectionate woman�� in the years that I knew her, she was not even particularly kind. She was stubborn and abrasive, with a Southern drawl turned scratchy with years of smoking and sighing and complaining.

She was also the strongest woman I have ever known.

After she quit smoking, she kept as far as possible from any sort of vices that would shorten her lifespan, replacing them instead with virtues… temperance, fortitude, and CNN. Even in her last years, when my parents begged her to have a glass of wine each night just to help her get to sleep, she refused. Her pain management was a strict combination of stubbornness and grit, and her health remained remarkable for her age.

But when you are close to one hundred years old, regardless of how healthy you are, on some level, every part of your body is begging you to just stop. To rest. Sometimes, it’s even in your own mind.

Once, I heard her ask my mother, “Why am I still here?”

“You know that we can’t get you back on a plane safely with all this oxygen, Mom.”

“No,” she sighed. “Why am I still here?”

But she accepted it. She held firm, and she stayed. Even when we ran out of money and resources and patience, when we had to fly her those three thousand miles to move back in with my auntie Beth, she stayed until she could not stay one second longer.

When I was seventeen, I once stood staring into her medicine cabinet on the precipice of explosion. I had my father’s gin and my mother’s anger in my stomach, and I knew what matches it would take to light that fuse. But I stayed, strong and composed, just as she did every day. I couldn’t do it for myself. So I did it for her.

I am not taking those pills.

I was, at the outset, correct about my ability to push through the discomfort. My constant fear of losing control had given me an acute awareness of how much I could handle, and I walked that line confidently. I did everything right, took the antibiotics and cleaned the surgical sites with a ritualistic reverence. All of my focus went towards the pain in my mouth. And the other pain, the ache that had settled into the bones of our house and deep into my chest, went untreated.

Until it couldn’t anymore.

I pushed myself too hard, I understand that now. I had convinced myself that I was out of the woods entirely, that I hadn’t felt any real soreness for days, that I was ready to shut the door behind a miserable week. That afternoon, I went hiking with my best friend, and we caught up over coffee and pre-Christmas peppermint bark. She tried to mention Mema, and I pointed out a hawk in the trees ahead.

By the evening, I was curled up in excruciating pain, convinced that the left side of my jaw was cracking and splintering as I laid with a bag of ice that did no real good. Taking Ibuprofen was like trying to stamp out a forest fire.

With gritted teeth and an apology, I cracked open the bottle of Hydrocodone.

That night was one of the worst of my life. I dreamed apocalyptic wastelands, bodies fetid and festering after the pestilence of the pandemic that had already defined that year. I saw my grandmother, sweating in and out of sleep– alive for a moment, but dying again and again. In the confusion and haze, for just a moment, I thought she might have been a god.

My fever dream ended as a weak winter sun began to stream through the window. I was drained, more exhausted than I had been the night before, but the ache had disappeared and my head was clear. I stripped the sheets and washed off the night, plugged in my headphones, hit shuffle perched on her old bare mattress.

And I was catching my breath/

Staring out an open window, catching my death/

And I couldn’t be sure/

I had a feeling so peculiar, that this pain would be for/

Evermore

I didn’t even notice I was crying until the drops hit my legs. I do not think I could have stopped myself if I tried. But I had run out of the desire to control.

Hey December, guess I’m feeling unmoored/

Can’t remember what I used to fight for

Everything, my grandmother and mother have insisted, exists in moderation. But what is moderation when we feel in extremes?

I rewind the tape, but all it does it pause/

On the very moment all was lost/

Sending signals to be double-crossed

We are made for vices, for cigarettes and coffee and chocolate cake. We are made to cling to any semblance of control, and then to watch again and again as it slips away, and then we are made to try again.

When the tears ran out and the last notes played, I pulled myself up and grabbed my keys. On my way out of the door, I caught a glimpse of something on the kitchen counter– a small glass bowl filled with See’s lollies. We had bought a box to send her for Christmas the day before she died.

This is what she left behind. Plastic wrappers, wood chips. A gap in the family and four gaps in my jaws. Ninety-nine years of stories and stubbornness and Southern sensibility. I carry the weight of her within me, her love and her loss. I manage our pain the way that she taught me, with control and composure. But I’m learning my own ways too.

And I couldn’t be sure/

I had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be for/

Evermore

My fist closed around a butterscotch.

[simply-wins-little-sis]

Metal Mouth

Request: Can you do a Winchesters x little sister where the reader (the sister) has to get braces but she’s really nervous and she needs her brothers with her because she thinks nobody will like her with them on

A/N: SURPRISE! You guys are getting a back to back posting package! This is because I feel really bad about part two to Faults and Breaths! Anyway, love, thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope your experience (if you have one or had one) is not as rocky as this one! (This is also a little break from all the emotional stuff I've been putting you through!)

Reminding you wonderful beauties that requests are open and so is the tag list!

Pairings: Sam and Dean x little sister! Reader

Tags: @percussiongirl2017 @metaphysicalmisha @winchesters-favorite-girl @sisterwinchesterwriter @staticweekes @lil-sister-winchester @awkwarderthanaverage @missygun

You nervously played with edge of your flannel. It used to belong to Dean, and you hoped that wearing it would give you a bit of his courage. You quickly shook your leg, and tapped your foot all at once. Sam slowly put his hand on your leg in an attempt to stop you from jittering. He hadn’t looked up from the orthodontist’s waiting room read. Dean was checking out the nurse that kept opening and closing the door to the back room.

You were scheduled to get your braces on today, and to say you were nervous would have been an understatement. Your brothers had been trying to save up money for this since you were a small being. Your teeth were crowding each other, and the dentist warned that you would eventually be in excruciating pain. You told your brothers you could handle it, even trying to use their famous words of “I’m a Winchester” but nevertheless, you were waiting for metal to invade your mouth.

You had been arguing with them since the mention of the appointment was uttered from a slightly sober Dean, and Sam had quickly shut down all conversation with a threat to take away your hunting privileges. You contemplated the look you would have after your mouth was decked out in wires and color rubber bands, and the thought made you shudder. Would you still be beautiful? Your brothers had no idea this was the reason you were fighting them. The idea that your beauty would be warped by the braces that were supposed to help you had haunted your mind since the first introduction appointment.

But, here you sat on the vinyl chairs, awaiting a pretty little thing to call you back and force your mouth to open wide for this short-term life changer. You watched every other tween and teen the young thing called go back. Your mind raced with ways of getting out of your situation. You had finally figured out a plan when the woman came back out the door, calling for you.

“Y/N?” she smiled and looked down at her file again. You didn’t move

Dean looked over to you and waited, as Sam began to place down his magazine.

“Y/N Winchester?” she called again.

“You gonna go or are we just gonna sit here and watch her call you?” Dean asked. You looked up with the biggest puppy dog, tear filled, scared eyes you could muster. “Come on Y/N, it won’t be that bad,” he rolled his orbs.

You sighed and stood. With the last bit of nerves, you felt sizzling in your fingertips, you stepped off with your right foot, and bolted for the door. The plan would have worked, if it weren’t for Sam standing up at the exact same time you had planned to run. You smacked your head right on his soon to be stretching arms.

“Oh my god Y/N! I am so sorry!” Sam laughed as he gripped your arm. You were trying to catch your vision back into place, and regain the original thought process you had. It wasn’t the first time the moose of a man had nearly knocked you over.

The moment was interrupted with the woman chuckling, “So your little miss Y/N? Come on sweetie your chair is ready”.

You looked up to Sam who had ushered you with his hands to pass him. You looked back at Dean who was clearly more focused on the lower areas of the young woman’s backside as she waited for you to follow her.

You began to shake with nerves, and every distorted version of yourself with braces flashed into your mind. You didn’t want any part of yourself to change, even if that meant pain. Sam gave your back a little push and a nod towards the assistant’s place.

You shoved down your thoughts and took some steps which eventually led you back towards the x-ray room. The long process began, and you could feel your heart leaping out of your chest.

The plaster like substance the woman put in your mouth made your stomach sink, and cause a gagging reaction from you. You tried staying strong, but couldn’t help the sinking feeling that began to take over as the process continued.

When you finally moved to the chair where the orthodontist would put the braces in your mouth, you started to panic. You had held it together for so long and now the nerves were returning to torment you once more.

“Can you open your mouth for me sweetheart?” the doctor asked. When he tried reaching towards you, your teeth sank into his hand. He let out a yelp, as his assistant shrieked. You shot up from the chair and ran back out to your brothers.

They both looked up at you and you looked at your feet.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” Dean asked, and you looked up to face his bright eyes.

“I’m a little nervous…do we really have to go through with this?” you asked.

Sam sighed, thinking about all the previous times you had said that. Dean gave a little chuckle.

“Baby girl, are you telling me after all the things you have seen, hunted and killed, you’re scared of a little metal in your mouth?” he asked, gaining a strange look from a mom a few feet away.

“It’s not that…” you replied with a bit of a lip quiver.

“What’s wrong Y/N/N?” Sam asked, grabbing your arm.

You looked down at your shoes again and took in the army green color they were. “What if, what if no one thinks I’m beautiful, and what if it affects the way people see me, or the way I see myself?” you asked.

Sam looked to Dean, finally understanding why their baby sister had put up such a fight with them. You were normally an obedient teenager, and the boys took pride in knowing they raised you to be respectful, so when the arguing had happened, they were shocked and a bit astounded. Now though, now it all fell into place and both your brothers immediately wanted to comfort you.

“Oh sweetheart,” Sam cooed as he pulled you into a hug. You would have pulled away if it weren’t for your need of support.

“Y/N you are always going to be the most beautiful girl on the face of the earth. Everyone can see it, and Sammy and I are always amazed when we look at you. Beauty inside and out, just like we had hoped for, and a little bit of wire and hot glue in your mouth ain’t gonna change that,” Dean smiled, rubbing your arm.

“Bunny you do know that no one is going to even really notice the braces, right? Even if they do, your beauty will always shine through,” Sam smiled into a kiss he placed on the top if your head.

“Thanks guys, I’ve been so worried about this when I shouldn’t have been. All I needed to remember was that the two most important boys think I’m beautiful, and that’s all that should matter,” you smiled.

“Who are these two boys because I’ll kill them if they even lay a hand on your-,” Dean started but you rolled your eyes.

“It’s you and Sam you goof!” you giggled, but then got serious, “They’re gonna put hot glue in my mouth!?”.

Sam’s eyes widened as he gave Dean a slight snarl eye, “No, bug, it’s not hot glue. It’s actually a bonding cement, or it could even be a glue that is branded on to your teeth with a special sort of UV light. It actually might not be a UV light, let me just check this book really quick,” Sam said as he went to reach for the pamphlet he had next to the dental magazine.

“Can you come back with me? Just as extra support?” you asked and they nodded with matching support smiles.

Dean put his hand on your shoulder and Sam led the way, “You got this kiddo!”.

“One more thing,” you tried to hold back your giggles, “You may want to slip the doc an extra twenty”.

“Why?” Sam questioned.

You didn’t get a chance to answer as the doctor stood in front of the chair you had walked back to. “Your daughter bit me!” he growled.

Dean scowled at the thought of being married to Sam, and Sam rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh we’re brothers, and she’s our sister,” Sam explained.

The doctor’s eyes went wide, “I’m so sorry sir,” he stammered.

You gave a devious smile, “Who bit your hand doc?”. He understood the message, and silently moved away so you could get back in the chair.

Your brothers held your hands the entire time. The doctor wasn’t as pleased because he had less space to work, and a bandage on his hand, but it all worked out as well as it could have.

After everything had finished, and you were back home to the bunker, you admired the shiny metal on your teeth. “How do I look?” you asked your brothers, taking a seat at a library table.

“Like a cute little nerd,” Dean smiled. You rolled your eyes as Sam laughed.

You knew he meant that you were as beautiful ever.

“Hey bunny, if you ever bite anyone again, we may have to ground you,” Sam warned. Dean only gave a chuckle in response as you overexaggerated a biting motion.

"Don't shut the little chomper that could down, Sammy!" Dean laughed at his own joke and Sam rolled his eyes.

“OW!” you whined.

“What?” Dean asked, concerned.

“It hurts,” you put your hand to your cheek, and both your brothers shook their heads.

"And it's down," Dean sighed.

[orthdontissedationdentistry]

Orthdontis  Sedation Dentistry

Orthdontis Sedation Dentistry

Our objective at South Hills Orthontis sadation dentistry Specialists is to give you the solid, straight, and excellent grin you have constantly needed. The decision to get orthodontic consideration can be a critical choice, and we regard your explanations behind needing to improve the manner in which you look and feel.

Orthdontis sedation Doctor and their group will work with you at all times your orthodontic treatment is as agreeable, helpful, and remunerating as could be expected under the circumstances. We will do everything conceivable to ensure all gatherings are 100% content with your treatment and results. We utilize the most recent innovation, and offer an assortment of sheltered and delicate treatment choices that will be modified for you to give you the individual consideration you merit.

Each grin begins with a complimentary discussion!

Your complimentary discussion will offer you the chance to meet Dr. Skanchy Sr., Dr. Skanchy Jr., and their group, just as get familiar with orthodontics, get a total introductory test, and talk about treatment alternatives that will best address your issues.

Amid your complimentary discussion, 

• Review dental and medicinal history frames

• Perform a total oral test, with X-beams and photographs, to decide whether treatment is required

• Discuss Athletic Mouth Guards choices

• Discuss all budgetary data, protection choices that might be accessible, and adaptable installment designs that we offer

What occurs after the underlying discussion?

When you choose to push ahead with orthdontis sedation dentistry treatment, we will plan your first arrangement. This is the huge day when you will get your new orthodontic apparatus. Commonly, this arrangement is around 60 minutes, and after that you are en route toward your new grin!

Booking Appointments

When your props are on, we ordinarily observe our patients at regular intervals. Standard checkups and modifications last between 15-30 minutes. By utilizing the most recent innovations in orthodontics, we can diminish the measure of visits expected to finish your orthodontic treatment effectively. Our training will work with you to ensure your arrangements are booked around your bustling calendar so you will invest less energy in the dental seat and additional time getting a charge out of the things you want to do.

When you are prepared to plan your first appWe anticipate working with you! Our office is effectively open to inhabitants living in the Herriman, Riverton, South Jordan, and Bluffdale zone, found simply off of Bangerter Highway.

Visiting the dental specialist amid orthodontic treatment

It is imperative that you keep on visiting your family dentistry specialist all the time amid orthodontic treatment for teeth cleanings and routine dental checkups. In the event that dental consideration is required with your dental practitioner, we will be upbeat to arrange with her or him to ensure you get the most ideal consideration.

For Children

While there is no careful age for youngsters to start orthodontis sedation treatment, the American Association of Orthodontists prescribes a visit to the orthodontists around age 7.

You are most likely pondering, "Why on the planet would my tyke need orthodontic treatment at such a youthful age?" by far most of kids don't require orthodontic treatment as of now. Notwithstanding, a little level of youngsters present do have certain jaw or dental issues that guardians may not know about, and whenever got early, are a lot simpler to treat at a youthful age.

By age 7, most kids have a blend of infant teeth and perpetual teeth, which makes it less demanding for the orthodontists to analyze and address tooth and jaw issues sooner. In the event that jaw issues and development anomalies are gotten early, it is conceivable that medical procedure can be dodged if treatment is begun at a more youthful age.

Early treatment causes the orthodontists to:

• Correct and direct the development of your kid's jaw to ensure the upper teeth will fit appropriately with the lower teeth. By tending to jaw development issues at a youthful age, surgeries might be stayed away from whenever treated legitimately

• Evaluate the width of the upper and lower teeth to decide whether an expander is required

• Create more space if the upper or lower teeth are swarmed

• Avoid the requirement for changeless tooth extractions further down the road

• Correct thumb sucking propensities and help improve minor discourse issues

For guardians, it isn't in every case simple to know whether your youngster may require orthodontic treatment.

Here are a couple of things to search for that may mean your tyke needs to see an orthodontists:

• Early or late loss of child teeth

• Upper teeth fit within the drop teeth while chomping down (crossbite)

• Hard time eating or biting nourishments

• Mouth relaxing

• Finger or thumb sucking

• Crowded, lost, or shut out teeth

• Teeth that meet up strangely, or don't meet up by any means

• Jaws and teeth that are not proportionate to whatever is left of the face

• Crowded front teeth around age 7 or 8

If you don't mind contact our training to plan an arrangement for an orthodontic assessment. Orthodontics is very time-touchy, and early treatment currently might be a lot less demanding than attempting to treat your kid in a couple of years. On the off chance that you have any inquiries, if you don't mind don't hesitate to get in touch with us.

For Teens

Supports, retainers, and everything else you need to think about orthodontics!

Supports! What now?

Try not to stress! Supports are not so alarming as you may think. Truth be told, supports today arrive in an assortment of styles, materials, and hues, which makes existence with props a lot less demanding, progressively agreeable, and significantly more jazzy than before. Visit our Types of Braces page to get familiar with what props we offer!

To what extent will I need to wear supports?

The measure of time it takes to treat your grin with supports relies upon 3 key variables:

• Early treatment — This enables orthdontis sedation to screen the development of the jaw and prescribe further orthodontic treatment on the off chance that it ends up vital. Not every person needs early orthodontic treatment, and much of the time, it is suggested that a patient hold until some other time to get treatment.

• What needs redress — The measure of treatment expected to address an issue will decide to what extent the procedure takes. Distinctive patients respond to medications in an unexpected way, so it might take one patient just a year to finish their treatment, however another patient may take two years. Treatment times can shift, contingent upon how rapidly your body reacts and how much work is expected to give you the show-ceasing grin you want.

• YOU! — Your eagerness to utilize the apparatuses we give you assumes a noteworthy job in the timeframe it takes to finish your treatment. Keep in mind forget to deal with your supports and apparatuses; this genuinely will help make your treatment time shorter!

• All of that stated, all things considered, extensive orthdontis sedation  treatment keeps going roughly year and a half. Early orthodontic treatment (Phase I treatment) commonly endures 7-8 months).

Props Your Way!

Our training offers an assortment of props, types, and styles to browse. Some normal alternatives include:

• Ceramic supports (clear props)

• Invisible props (Invisalign clear aligners)

• Damon props

• Traditional metal props

• Wild Smiles props

Orthodontis sedation dentistry treatment is a major piece of life for some individuals your age. With all the treatment choices offered at our office, we make it simple to look great and feel great with props or Invisalign! In the event that you live in the Herriman, Riverton, or Bluffdale territory, if you don't mind contact our training to plan your next orthodontic checkup.

FOR ADULTS

Orthodontic Treatment for Adults

Orthdontis sedation treatment is never again only for youngsters. Truth be told, the American Association of Orthodontistss states that about 25% of patients are beyond 21 years old. Roughly 20% of our patients in our office are grown-up patients.

Numerous grown-ups are accepting treatment since they comprehend the significance of keeping up their wellbeing, and they need to rest easy thinking about their appearance and increment fearlessness. Grown-ups wherever are exploiting the chance to get orthodontic consideration, and now you can, as well.

Normal reasons why grown-ups are thinking about orthodontic treatment:

• An unpredictable nibble that does not enable the teeth to chomp appropriately

• Crowded teeth or teeth that have space, potentially prompting holes and gum disease (gum malady)

• Abnormal jaw agony or weight brought about by screwy teeth

• Desire for an increasingly sound and delightful grin

Treatment Options for Adults

For some grown-ups, the possibility of having metal supports is sufficient to demoralize them from looking for treatment. Nonetheless, at South Hills Dental Specialists, we offer a few choices for grown-ups that are agreeable, stylish, and tweaked to address your issues. Kinds of supports include:

• Ceramic (clear) props

• Clear aligner plate (Invisalign®)

• Self-ligating supports (Damon® props)

• Traditional metal supports

What is the distinction between grown-up orthodontics and orthodontics for kids and teenagers?

The principle contrast between treating grown-ups and kids or youngsters is that the jawbones of more youthful patients are as yet creating. For grown-ups, these bones have quit developing, which may make treatment somewhat more troublesome if the jaws are not adjusted appropriately. Different contrasts include:

• Gum or bone misfortune (periodontal malady) — Adults are almost certain than youngsters to encounter retreat of the gums or even bone misfortune because of gum disease or periodontal sickness. Research has appeared on the defensive are less demanding to clean, which can diminish the probability of gum ailment and other oral issues.

[ellieptical]

Getting a little self-indulgent

I often see that post going round about women being misdiagnosed because Drs don’t listen to them or think they’re being hysterical and I add bits to it but I kinda just want to talk about my experience here. This is going to be kinda graphic and teeth related. 

So when I was 7 I’d had some headaches/toothache for a little bit but not really done or said much about it and then one day my top gum started leaking pus and blood. A lot. Mum took me to an emergency dentist who said I had an infection and gave me some antibiotics. A few weeks, maybe even only a week later it happened again, a lot. So mum took me to the dentist who said it looked like some sort of cyst or something in the gum area, but sent me to the hospital to check. X-Ray or two later and it was diagnosed as a cyst in my upper maxilla with an adult tooth that had grown up instead of down and was pressing on the nerves around my eye .The orthodontist shortly before slipping and sending the anaesthetic needle through the front of my lip rather than into my gum used this exact phrase to a 7 year old “if we don’t remove it you’ll go blind” so I had it removed through a Caldwell-Luc operation (don’t google this when eating or about to have one), they removed some jaw bone and removed the cyst and tooth.  Boom all fixed. 

At 13 I wanted straight teeth, so I went to the orthodontist who took an x-ray and told me I couldn’t have a brace (I already had a retainer) because there was a gap in my jaw bone and I’d have to have a bone graft from my hip. So I declined this. I wanted straight teeth but not that much, this will very much come back to bite me in the arse later. 

I felt lethargic, unwell, sore, headachey, nauseous, tired, angry, achey, tight in the jaw for a while, through uni, and early work days. It got worse and worse, my jaw started to get stuck so i couldn’t open it, my neck would start burning, I’d feel like my shoulders were on fire, I’d feel so impossibly exhausted. I started going for tests it was not: thyroid, cancer, a tumour on my adrenal gland, kidneys, diabetes, ME, CFS, Fibromyalgia, hypoglycaemia. Ferritin stores result came back very low. Took iron tablets, this didn’t fix it. Was referred to Maxillo-facial (henceforth macsfacs) who deemed it to be temporomandibular joint disorder. The consultant who diagnosed me also had TMJ and said on a bad flare up he’d rather get booted in the balls. Well that pain level seemed to tally with the pain I was feeling. So I took the tablets and hoped I’d learn to live with it. I did not. The pain got worse, I missed days and days of work. I would have attacks of pain for no reason, nothing would trigger them, or there’d be a draft at work and all of a sudden I’d lose three days due to pain so bad I couldn’t speak. I’d forget how words worked, I told someone I liked their sheep - I meant shoes. I’d start trembling, and lose feeling in my hands and feet, I start slurring my words, I’d pass out. Then I’d be mostly fine, sore and achey but fine really. But I kept going back to my doctor, and off for the next round of tests. I finally went to see macfacs and I saw an old, white male consultant, who sat in front of me as I cried hysterically and explained to him that the pain was so bad that I was going to step in front of a bus because it was intolerable and I will never forget what he said to me “well, I think you’re probably exaggerating, it’s not that painful or you wouldn’t be able to do half the things you do” I sort of gold-fished, and he said he was standing by the junior consultants diagnoses of TMJ and that I’d “get used to it eventually”. A few months later I was sitting outside my BSL course when I had one of my fits, I couldn’t feel my feet, I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t ask for help. I was terrified. It passed, I was exhausted but I got through the class. I walked home. 

I called my mum at 2am the next morning, screaming down the phone that I was dying and didn’t know what I was doing, I kept asking her for help but gave her no instructions or anything, largely because I didn’t know I’d called her and left a voicemail on her machine. I think somehow texted my housemate with just the word ‘help’. She came bounding upstairs and helped. She tried asking me questions but I was out of it, I was just screaming, and she called my Mum who was already panicked trying to get a taxi after being woken up by her only child screaming into her answerphone that she was dying. I guess my dad was in respite at this point I don’t know. Eventually my housemate called an ambulance and they did the usual questions and determined I was probably having a stroke. Spoiler alert: I was not. The ambulance came, and the little man on the bike, and the slightly smaller ambulance - it felt unnecessary for 4 people to come out but they did and it cost me not a penny BECAUSE THE NHS IS FUCKING INCREDIBLE!!!!, and they took me downstairs whilst I flailed about and reassured my other housemate whom I worked with that I’d be ‘in tomorrow just a bit late’. I don’t really remember too much except a) gas and air is fucking incredible! b) i kept telling my mum and the man with the bleeding face next to me that I’d left my keys at home and I wasn’t wearing a bra. I eventually got seen and by this point the pain was subsiding and I kept apologising profusely but the A+E doctor pointed out that I’d experienced pain severe enough that a dispatcher and 4 paramedics (one of whom really thought I should have been admitted for a brain scan not put through A+E but it was 3 am so...) thought I was having a stroke. Not to worry but here were some lovely drugs. 

A few weeks later I saw my doctor again who this time thought it might be ME as nothing else was tying in but wanted to just rule out anything neurological so referred me to another Dr who as I described things listened and then sent me for a different scan. I got a referral through to ENT because it turned out there was a piece of bone in my face that shouldn’t be there. Basically the boney part of the cyst from when I was 7, they’d only removed the soft tissue. So I had an operation and they removed that. Some of the pain stopped. I didn’t have the same issues but it still didn’t feel right. I ended up seeing a locum as my doctor was off with their own medical issues. I kept saying it feels like there’s some swelling in my face and so I got two courses of antibiotics because eventually they referred me back. Another scan. Then an appointment out of nowhere with macfacs. 

Turns out macfacs has done a lot of reshuffling because everyone is new and when I mention the old guy they all go ‘ah yeah, he’s gone now’ with the strong implication that he was a cunt - possibly my inference but whatever. Turns out I had a tumour in my face. It’s benign in almost all cases, mine included thank god, but it’s rare 3% of the population get it, and almost always men, and it’s aggressive it’s main deal is that it recurs. I had one when I was 7, in 2012 and in 2015. It gets into bone and takes over. It’s why after my first operation my bone didn’t heal and I have a hole in my jawbone now. Like I said... shoulda got that brace! They’d have seen what was going on then. So I had another operation at Xmas in 2015.  I had the bone inside my upper maxilla, removed and sanded down, the nerves scraped or removed, and painted with essentially embalming fluid, I lost a tooth because the fluid touched it. It was a joint op between ENT and macfacs. I have to go back every year for 10 years and there’s something lurking but it seems to be just the weird shape I’ve healed into but I’m not taking it for granted. I still get some pain and flare ups because my bone is still regrowing. I can’t feel my top left lip at all or a lot of my cheek either. I have a permanently damaged shoulder because of hunching with the pain. I know now because they told me that I had trigeminal neuralgia as a symptom of this tumour, which it’s rare that it would have a tumour as an underlying cause but I did. It can flare up from eating, from the wind on your face or from nothing at all. I explained to person after person what I was feeling and it took so long to get a diagnosis and a fix. The only reason I got it was because of my Doctor who listened and persisted. She’s a female doctor. There are three other female medical professionals in this story. The paramedic who thought I should have a brain scan, the A+E doctor who told me my pain was valid and the neurologist who listened and thought to send me for a different type of scan. They all listened to what I was saying, or slurring. My doctor kept trying, she didn’t abandon me, she really did everything she could. Including handing me copious amounts of tissues whilst I hysterically sobbed at her. So many of the male doctors I saw and see regularly now are lovely and so kind but I had to fight to get them to listen, they had to be shown evidence before they’d believe me. 

I am so grateful that this whole debacle was on the NHS it didn’t impact me financially, I was able to work, I am very aware of the privileges I have but it’s only now as I start to feel fully better (well, the iron is still an issue), and have a friend experiencing migraines so look up things for her that I start to realise how much shit I went through and how angry I am that something that should have been solved when I was 13 was only solved when I was 29. If you know something isn’t right with your body keep persisting, get someone to come in with you - preferably a man, change doctors if you have to and you have that luxury, ask for a second opinion. 

And finally, if one more person says ‘oh it’s like having a wisdom tooth out’ I am going to fucking put pressure on their trigeminal nerve!!!! 

[youmightaswell]

Die!

Like Pulling Teeth...

Today was a stressful day. I have had the same dentist for 22 years. I call him “dentist to the stars” because I first met him when my much older, much richer boyfriend took me there years ago. HIs prices seemed through the roof and lots of fabulous people go to him. Even though the cost was far more than someone with an entry level job could handle back then, I continued to go to him because the office was so nice and the dentist and his staff were so great.

Back then I would go every six months for a cleaning and exam. I haven’t had a cavity since I was 12 and take really good care of my teeth so it was always the basics. When I was 30 I got braces so I started going to my dentist for cleanings every three months instead of the usual every six -- because it was hard to keep my braced teeth clean. 

Even when the braces got removed a year later I continued my quarterly sojourns to Dr. Greene. As I got older, because I have such bad OCD, I developed gum recession from brushing too frequently and with fervor. My teeth became really sensitive so every three years my dentist would coat my root area with a bonding solution. Pretty cost effective and definitively helped ease the sensitivity. He’d duly measure the recession ever time I would go for an exam to make sure it wasn’t getting worse. (I use a kid’s toothbrush (currently a pink princess!)  so it is super soft and try not to brush more than twice a day now.)

Recently one of my bonded teeth (I have two teeth that were filled in with bonding because even with braces the orthodontist couldn’t give me a perfect smile) lost the bonding. It was over 15 years old so it had a good life. Dr. Greene took me immediately and a small $250 later I had a brand new tooth. I loved that he never tried to up sell. 

During the great (financial) recession in 2008, I went to a dental school for a cleaning and xrays a few times to supplement my pricier Dr. Greene visits. Those dental school visits were always just fine as well. Great cleanings for $10! Sure there’d be a team of students watching, but you can’t beat the price and the great services. 

So when I got a new health insurance this year, it was the first time ever I had access to dental insurance. I an allowed two cleanings/exams a year for free. Dr. Greene doesn’t take any insurance so I told him at our last visit  three months ago I would skip the next quarterly cleaning and go to the insurance dentist I picked for my freebie. He was totally fine with it and suggested I send over the xrays so he could keep them in my file. 

I looked through the book provided by my insurance and selected a guy in my zip code. I figured what could possibly go wrong? 

Today was my appointment and upon entrance I began to get nervous. (Always trust your gut if not your teeth.) This insurance dentist was 73 years old and had a single chair with no assistants in a tiny office. Still, I was just there for a cleaning and xrays so who cares about aesthetics? 

I filled out a ton of paperwork and then he shakily came in and said he was going to do an exam and I would come back a different time after he “did the work”. I explained I was only there for an exam and cleaning, and that I had just had a comprehensive exam and cleaning a mere three months ago so chances are no work would be needed. I reiterated my teeth felt find, my dentist found nothing suspect and while, of course,  I’d address any dental issue he might come upon, for today I just wanted to get a cleaning.  He acquiesced but kept saying he wanted to see my “pockets” -- it was either that or “packets” -- and I was at a loss for what he meant. He was very mumbly throughout and shaky. Not really ideal for having one’s hands in my mouth with pointy instruments but I soldiered on. 

I had never had a dentist do my xrays or cleaning himself, but figured that is just the way smaller offices handle it. 

Next came the exam which consisted of him poking at my teeth with an instrument -- like my other dentist always did. He didn’t check my bite, my tongue or gums, but whatevs. He then used the water pick type instrument and cleaned my teeth but didn’t do any hand scaling which I found really odd. At my regular guy the hygienist spends an hour with the water pick, hand scaling and then shining my teeth. This took all of ten minutes. 

When I checked out my teeth post-cleaning there was still bits of plague on the back of my front teeth. They didn’t look or feel any cleaner. Clearly the hand scaling should not have been skipped! 

Then he said I had to come back because I had FOUR cavities. 

WTF? 

I was shocked because as I said I haven’t had a cavity since I was 12 and had just had a very thorough exam. I have been seen over the years by all different dentists in Dr. Greene’s practice as well as the dental school and no one had ever found a cavity. So even if Dr. Greene was missing something, all the others clearly couldn’t. 

So how is it possible I developed four -- one in each back tooth -- in a mere three months? 

I started feeling a bit suspicious. This dentist had already been prepared to schedule me for “work” long before he even peered into my mouth. He also kept on about sure he was there were cavities in my “packets/pockets”, again, before he ever peered in. 

So I asked if they were big or small and he said cavities don’t come in sizes. I countered that by mere definition cavity means hole so they could definitely be in a range of sizes. Were these pinholes that didn’t need to be addressed urgently, or were they so big I was on the verge of having massive pain and a root canal? (I’m not sure what that is but I suspect is it what happens if you don’t address a cavity.) 

He then seemed super nervous. Said I didn’t have to get them filled if I didn’t believe him (there was no intimation at this point whatsoever that I thought he was lying) and the visit was over for now. He said I never had to have them filled. I was confused whether he meant didn’t have to as in “he couldn’t force me” or “it isn’t medically necessary.” 

I asked where they were and initially he was very nonspecific. I finally asked for specifics (getting a direct answer was like pulling teeth) and he poked at my back tooth in a ridge. But the instrument didn’t stick in it. Then he said, “And your other three are teeth with decay.” I said,”Well you said they all have cavities -- does ‘decay’ mean cavities?” He didn’t explain further.

So now I’m all worried about this. Is he a scammer trying to make money? (It really looked this way.) Or is it really possible that I developed four cavities in all of my back teeth in three months when I have not had one in 35 years. If that is the case I think there is a bigger issue to address aside from just the cavities. What would make my teeth get so bad so quickly? 

I neurotically called my regular dentist and set up an appointment.  I had hoped getting a free cleaning and xrays would be a win, but now it appears I am going to end up paying anyway to have a “real” dentist access my teeth. I can’t stop thinking about this and need to know for sure. 

When I called and mentioned this, the nurse said she looked at my chart, remembers the cleaning and exam and there was absolutely no evidence of anything that could even be a cavity in the making. There were no dark or soft areas, no areas of decay, or anything else noteworthy in her exam or the dentist’s notes. She highly doubts I could have developed four basically overnight, but of course they will double check to assuage my fears. 

I’m so tense right now that I’m clenching my teeth; so add a night guard to my list of things I will probably have to pay for. 

[frankkmartin25-blog]

Man given face transplant overjoyed at results

He'd been waiting for this day, and when his doctor handed him the mirror, Andy Sandness stared at his image and absorbed the enormity of the moment: He had a new face, one that had belonged to another man.

His father and his brother, joined by several doctors and nurses at Mayo Clinic, watched as he studied his swollen features. He was just starting to heal from one of the rarest surgeries in the world - a face transplant, the first at the medical center.

He had the nose, cheeks, mouth, lips, jaw, chin, even the teeth of his donor. Resting in his hospital bed, he still couldn't speak clearly, but he had something to say.

He scrawled four words in a spiral notebook:

"Far exceeded my expectations," he wrote, handing it to Dr. Samir Mardini, who read the message to the group.

"You don't know how happy that makes us feel," Mardini said, his voice husky with emotion as he looked at the patient-turned-friend he had first met nearly a decade earlier.

The exchange came near the end of an extraordinary medical journey that revolved around two young men. Both were rugged outdoorsmen and both just 21 when, overcome by demons, they decided to kill themselves: One, Sandness, survived but with a face almost destroyed by a gunshot; the other man died.

Their paths wouldn't converge for years, but when they did - in side-by-side operating rooms - one man's tragedy offered hope that the other would have a second chance at a normal life.

It was two days before Christmas in 2006 when Andy Sandness reached a breaking point.

He'd been sad and drinking too much at that time. That night after work while "super, super depressed," he grabbed a rifle from a closet. He stared at it for a while, then put a round in the chamber.

He positioned the barrel beneath his chin, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

Instantly, he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. When the police arrived, an officer who was a friend cradled him in his arms as Sandness begged, "Please, please don't let me die! I don't want to die!"

He was rushed from his home in eastern Wyoming, treated at two hospitals, then transferred to Mayo Clinic.

When he woke, his mother was holding his hand. She'd always been a strong woman but that day, her face was a portrait of unfathomable pain. The bullet had obliterated his mouth, so he motioned for a pen and paper.

"I'm sorry," he wrote.

"I love you," she replied. "It's OK." But all Sandness could think about was how he'd hurt his family - and just wonder what was next.

The answer came quickly when he met Mardini, a plastic surgeon whose specialty is facial reconstruction. As a newcomer at Mayo, the doctor was on call Christmas Eve. Over the next few days, he reassured Sandness that he'd fix his face as best he could.

"I just need you to be strong and patient," he said.

It would take time and much surgery. And despite their skills, the doctors couldn't miraculously turn him back into that guy with the orthodontist-perfected smile.

Sandness couldn't bear to see himself, so he covered his hospital room mirror with a towel. He had no nose and no jaw. He'd shot out all but two teeth. His mouth was shattered, his lips almost nonexistent. He'd lost some vision in his left eye. He needed breathing and feeding tubes at first.

Mardini and his team removed dead tissue and shattered bones, then connected facial bones with titanium plates and screws. They reconstructed his upper jaw with bone and muscle from the hip; they transferred bone and skin from a leg to fashion the lower jaw.

They used wires and sutures to bring together his eyelids, which had been spread apart by the powerful blast.

They made progress, even if it didn't always look that way.

After about eight surgeries over 4½ months, Sandness returned home to Newcastle, Wyoming, a hamlet of 3,200, where friends and family embraced him. He worked at a lodge, in the oil fields and as an electrician's apprentice.

But his world had shrunk. When he ventured to the grocery store, he avoided eye contact with children so he wouldn't scare them.

Occasionally, he heard them ask their mothers why he looked that way.

He sometimes lied when folks asked what had happened. "I would tell them it was a hunting accident," he says. "I felt like they didn't need to know."

He had almost no social life; on a rare night out to shoot pool, a guy taunted him about his appearance. He retreated to the hills, where he could hunt elk and fish walleye, unseen.

"Those were real tough times for him,' says his father, Reed. "He was insecure. Who wouldn't be?"

Sandness learned to adapt. His mouth was about an inch wide - too small for a spoon - so he tore food into bits, then sucked on them until he could swallow the pieces. He wore a prosthetic nose but it constantly fell off outdoors; he carried glue to reattach it. It discolored often, so he had to paint it to match his skin.

"You never fully accept it," he says. "You eventually say, 'OK, is there something else we can do?'"

There was, but the prospect of 15 more surgeries Mardini had mapped out scared him. He didn't want more skin grafts, more scars or dental implants. Even then, he'd still look deformed.

Over the next five years, Sandness made yearly visits to Mayo. Then in spring of 2012, he received a life-changing call.

Mardini told him it looked like Mayo was going to launch a face transplant program and Sandness might be an ideal patient. The doctor had already begun traveling to France, Boston and Cleveland to meet doctors who'd done face transplants.

Mardini tried to temper his patient's enthusiasm. "Think very hard about this," he said. Only about two dozen transplants have been done around the world, and he wanted Sandness to understand the risks and the aftermath: a lifelong regimen of anti-rejection drugs. But Sandness could hardly contain himself. "How long until I can do this?" he asked.

He followed Mardini's advice to research the surgery. It was far more complicated than he'd imagined, but he was undeterred.

"When you look like I looked and you function like I functioned, every little bit of hope that you have, you just jump on it," he says, "and this was the surgery that was going to take me back to normal."

Three more years passed as Sandness waited.

By then, Mayo Clinic had completed a long internal review to get the face transplant program approved. Sandness had to undergo a rigorous psychiatric and social work evaluation to address, among other things, a key question: Should this surgery be performed on someone who'd attempted suicide?

Several factors were in his favor: His resilience and motivation, a strong support network of family and friends, a long-standing rapport with Mardini and a gap of several years since the shooting.

"I don't think there's anybody who doesn't deserve a second chance," Mardini says.

Asked by the doctors what he expected from the transplant, to make sure he had realistic goals, Sandness said he wanted a working nose, the ability to bite, swallow, chew, and to "get good stares as opposed to bad stares."

These incremental steps benefited everyone, says Dr. Hatem Amer, Mayo's medical director of reconstructive transplantation.

"He wasn't rushing us, and we weren't rushing him," he says. "He really understood what he was embarking upon."

Sandness says he was concerned both about the possibility of rejection and potential side effects of anti-rejection drugs, including skin cancer, infection, diabetes and weakening of the bones.

Mardini and his team devoted more than 50 Saturdays over 3½ years to rehearsing the surgery, using sets of cadaver heads to transplant the face of one to the other. They used 3-D imaging and virtual surgery to plot out the bony cuts so the donor's face would fit perfectly on Sandness.

In January 2016, Sandness' name was added to the waiting list of the United Network for Organ Sharing.

Mardini figured it would take up to five years to find the right donor: a man with matching blood and tissue types, roughly the same size as Sandness, within a 10-year age range and a close skin tone.

But just five months later, Mardini got a call: There might be a donor. He phoned Sandness, cautioning it was just a possibility. The next day, Mardini got the final word: The donor's family had said OK.

The decision came from a 19-year-old newlywed mourning the sudden loss of her husband.

In early June, Calen "Rudy" Ross fatally shot himself in the head. His devastated widow, Lilly, was eight months pregnant.

Despite her grief, she was committed to carrying out her husband's wishes: On his driver's license, Ross, who lived in Fulda, Minnesota, had designated he wanted to be an organ donor. Lilly met with a coordinator from LifeSource, a nonprofit group that works with families in the upper Midwest to facilitate organ and tissue donation.

Since Ross had been healthy and just 21, his heart, lungs, liver and kidneys could be donated. But additional screening determined he could do even more: He was a good match for a man awaiting a face transplant at Mayo Clinic.

In a second conversation, LifeSource broached the idea to Lilly.

"I was skeptical at first," she says. "I didn't want to walk around and all of a sudden see Calen." She was reassured the donor had his own eyes and forehead and would not be recognizable as her husband. After consulting with her husband's best friend, she gave her consent.

A CT scan, other tests and a photo sent to Mardini by LifeSource confirmed the two men were a good match. Mardini said when the doctors studied Ross' photo, "we got chills when we actually saw how close they were in hair color, skin - just the overall look. It could be his cousin."

Late on June 16, Sandness was wheeled into surgery, accompanied by Mardini, who was showing him photos of his two small children. Over the years, the two say they've become as close as brothers.

"There was not a second of doubt that everything was going to go well," Sandness says.

"Everybody went into this totally knowing their role, knowing what to expect," Mardini recalls. "Every step has been thought out 1,000 times."

Mardini had a parting message: "We're looking forward to seeing you with a new face."

In adjoining operating rooms, some 60 surgeons, nurses, anesthesiologists and others had gathered for what would be a 56-hour marathon.

The surgery that started shortly before midnight Friday was over early Monday morning.

It took about 24 hours to procure the donor's face, which involved taking bone, muscle, skin and nerves, and almost the same time to prepare Sandness. His entire face was rebuilt below his eyes, taking an additional 32 hours. The medical team rotated, many taking four-hour breaks through the weekend.

One of the most intricate parts of the surgery was identifying facial nerve branches on both men and stimulating them with an electric current to determine their function. That allowed doctors to make the correct transfers, so when Sandness thinks about smiling or closing his eyes, for example, those movements actually happen.

After the surgery ended, Mardini proclaimed it "a miracle."

Sandness, who was sedated for several days, wasn't allowed to see himself immediately. His room mirror and cell phone were removed. His father, Reed, served as his eyes.

"I said, 'Andy, I've never lied to you. I'm telling you you're going to be happy with what you see,'" he recalls. "He was quizzing me and the nurses all the time."

Three weeks later, when he finally did see his face - a scene captured on a Mayo video - his father says it "was just a real tearful, hard-to-hold-back time ... beyond our wildest dreams."

Sandness was overwhelmed. "Once you lose something that you've had forever, you know what it's like not to have it," he says. "And once you get a second chance to have it back, you never forget it." Just having a nose and mouth are blessings, he says. "The looks are a bonus."

Months earlier, both he and Lilly Ross had expressed interest in learning about each other. She particularly wanted him to know about her husband, an adventurous, spontaneous guy.

Last fall, she wrote to Sandness and the five others who received her husband's organs. She described Ross, her high school sweetheart, as a "giving person" who loved hunting, trapping and being with his dog, Grit. "I am filled with great joy knowing that he was able to give a little of himself to ensure a better quality of life for someone else," she wrote.

As for the face transplant, she thought of her baby son when she agreed to it. "The reason that I decided to ... go through with it was so that I can later down the road show Leonard what his dad had done to help somebody," she said in a video produced by LifeSource.

Lilly was given photos of Sandness before and after the transplant. That's when she learned of uncanny similarities between the two men - not just their passion for the outdoors, but the way they stood in their hunting photos. "It was amazing how good he looked and how well he's doing,'" she says of Sandness. "I'm excited for him that he's getting his life back."

She also noticed one small detail - a small bare patch in the middle of his bearded chin, just as on her husband's face.

Both she and Sandness hope to meet one day. For now, he wrote her a letter of appreciation. Referring to her husband's favorite things, he said: "He's still going to continue to love hunting and fishing and dogs - through me."

Andy Sandness can pinpoint the day he looked normal.

About three months after the transplant, he was in an elevator when a little boy glanced at him, then turned to his mother without appearing scared or saying anything. "I knew then," he says, "that the surgery was a success."

Last December, he had follow-up surgery to tighten skin on his face and neck and build up bone around his eyes so they're not so recessed.

His facial muscles are growing stronger. He received speech therapy to learn to use his tongue in a new mouth and jaw, and enunciate clearly.

He's thrilled to smell again, breathe normally and be eating foods that were off-limits for a decade: apples, steak and pizza that he shared with his doctors.

His transformation isn't just visible. After the shooting, he says, when he dreamed, he still had his old face. Now, his new face appears in his dreams.

Sandness, now 31, plans to return to Wyoming, work as an electrician and, he hopes, marry and have a family someday.

For now, he savors his anonymity. Recently, he attended a Minnesota Wild game. He bought some popcorn. He watched some hockey. He didn't see any stares or hear any whispers.

He was, as he says, "just another face in the crowd." Just thinking about that makes him smile.