I had braces when I was 12. Glamorous, I know. I think that was about 7th grade, if I'm not mistaken. [Shudder.] What a bad year. Or let's just say middle school in general was bad.
After I got my braces taken off, the orthodonist installed [that word makes me sound like I'm a computer] two permanent retainers - top and bottom. This past summer, my top permanent retainer broke and was poking me in the cheek - so I did what anyone else would do: I pulled it out. Wow.
My orthodontist kind of got mad at me - "It was ripping my cheek up. What else was I suppose to do?"
He made a new retainer for me - a removable one. Have I worn it in the last couple of months? No. Did I wear it last night? Yes.
I woke up a total of four times last night because I rolled over, felt something hard and pokey underneath my shoulder, fished around for it in the dark, and realized I had popped my retainer out of my mouth in my sleep. Wow.