Ahem. Now that I have your attention, I'd like to talk about the dentist.
When I was little, I went to the dentist as often as I was supposed to. I was terrified of getting cavities, though I ended up with a few here and there. I had braces for eighth grade and though we weren't poor, my parents made it clear that with the money being spent on my teeth, they should be a source of pride for me and something to take good care of. But as I got deeper into my studies in college, I started going to the dentist less often than I should. I'm not sure when the last time I went to my childhood dentist in Minnesota was, but after I moved to Florida, things got a lot worse.
As a grad student I didn't have dental insurance. I never brought it up, but I'm sure if I had wanted to go, my parents would be more than happy to help with the cost. When Dean and I got married and I was put on his insurance, dental was covered. But by that time, my anxiety had gotten the best of me. It had been several years since I had been in for an exam. My friends were experiencing similar issues, after graduating going to the dentist for a deserved tongue-lashing and ending up needing root canals, deep cleanings, tissue grafts, you name it. A couple times my parents asked me if I'd seen a dentist lately and I blew them off. Even though I now had dental insurance, I was imagining still needing thousands of dollars of work to make up for at least seven or eight years of lapsed cleanings and check ups. I didn't exactly neglect my teeth, I still flossed several times a week and brushed at least twice a day. But my sweet tooth is worrisome, to say the least.
The more time went on, the more dentist anxiety I got. When I started the job I have now, I opted for dental insurance swearing I'd use it to get caught up on dental work, but I just kept finding excuses not to make an appointment. Then about six weeks ago I bit into an apple and my permanent retainer that went across the inside of my bottom teeth popped off, leaving behind shards of cement that grazed my tongue almost constantly. Great. Not only did I need to see a dentist, but my orthodonture was out of whack and I couldn't tell by peering in my mouth if my tooth actually chipped when the cement was yanked off. I was a mess.
So I contacted the only person native to Providence that I trust. My landlord. Okay, I know that's a little sad, but as I mentioned most grad students don't see dentists regularly, and my landlord also works for my University so I knew we had the same insurance. I told her I needed the name of a good, friendly dentist that would go easy on me. She told me about Dr. A, whose motto is "We cater to cowards". It sounded good enough, but when I went on the website, quite honestly, the guy looked like a total tool. The website showed him with his family and they all had super white teeth and were wearing all white clothes and looked like they should have been in a Mormon cult. But I trusted my landlady and she is the type to follow up on this sort of stuff and I didn't want to explain that I didn't see her dentist because he looked like a Mormon.
Turns out I was completely wrong. The toolish looking family on the internet were just models and the dentist himself is an older gentleman who seemed genuinely interested in me, my life, Dean's life and my sordid dental history. He even asked me about my feelings on the Minnesota Senate race and whole-heartedly respected my opinion despite the fact the waiting room was showing Fox News. Regarding my teeth, I blatantly lied and told him it had been approximately five years since my last exam, set of x-rays, and cleaning. He told me my teeth looked fantastic for five years (recall it's probably been closer to eight years), offered to scrape off the cement on my front teeth and found one lonely cavity. Otherwise everything is normal.
So what is the take home message from this long, rambling post about my teeth? The point is that once it had been a little while since I was due for a cleaning, I freaked out and waited an addition 6-7 years to go to a dentist. And all that worry was for nothing. And with good dental insurance, all I paid for during the whole ordeal was the upgrade from silver to tooth-colored filling. That upgrade was my own personal reward to myself for brushing and flossing enough to only have one cavity in eight years. And if anyone needs a dentist in the Providence area, I have a recommendation for you.
