I am very sure that, the first when I open my mouth for Dr Tang to inspect is that she is going to comment about the state of my teeth. They're extremely brown.

Darn right I am.

"Why is your teeth filled with so many coffee stains? Your brushing has to be improved!"

I am secretly praying that she won't send me to the dental therapist like the last time for lessons on how to brush properly.

Today's visit is to fit in new rubber bands. The current ones have been long overdue. The last time I saw my orthodontist was on 30 August. The next appointment was slated on the morning of 27 September. However, I cancelled that and tried to push the time till later in order to skip arms drill. I did this through email. The next time they got back to me, they told me that the time was impossible. They suggested 7 October. I thought I could go, but then I was told there was live firing. So it was postponed again. The earliest date available, the receptionist told me, was 29 November.

So it is this very day I make the trip down to the National Dental Centre.

Dr Tang tells me that I must return next week to extend the wire on the braces to the back tooth, which are currently left alone. Also, an operation has to be done to remove my wisdom tooth.

YES! YES! YES! Oh, this is so gleeful! I am sure to get a long medical leave.

The problem is that the lower wisdom teeth are slanted almost perpendicularly to the rest of the teeth. This requires that the gum be cut to extract the teeth; i.e. they cannot be extracted via the normal way of injecting the gums to numb it and then yanking the molars out. I have to go on anaesthesia.

I am sent to a variety of departments. First, to Level 2: for the dentists there to see my wisdom teeth to decide on the course of treatment. Then I am sent up to level 6 to do X-ray. It is the second floor X-ray staff member who sends me up there. I don't know why also. Then it's back to Dr Tang. Oops, I've made a mistake, according to doctor. She tells me that the X-rays are for the Level 2 doctor. I make my way down again. The doctor looks at the pictures and at my teeth. Then he tells me to wait to fix a date for my operation.

So many things . . .

My operation is fixed for the 18th of January. It's a day surgery. The night before, I'm not supposed to consume any food, including plain water. I can't even wear glasses into the operating room. This means I'm going to be blind, because my degree is so high that when I take off my glasses I only see an Impressionistic painting in front of me. And I have to bring a parent with me to sign the consent form, if not the whole thing would be forfeited and I would have wasted time and then I have to fix a new date and go through the whole procedure again, including testing. A week before the operation, I have to go for a blood test at the Health Promotion Board building to ascertain if I am fit to go under the surgeon's knife. Not to mention: I cannot forget my army card, because it means "savings".

I'm not really nervous yet about the operation. I guess I'll do so when the date draws nearer. In the first place, I don’t even know if I can actually go for the operation, because in January we're going operational, and we may have an exercise-cum-live-firing. I hate to delay everything again, because it disturbs the treatment process and I have to go through all the tiresome administrative jobs again.