Pearly Whites

Americans are big on dental work. Let’s face it – compared to the rest of the world, there is a huge glut of dentists, who perpetuate the image of perfectly straight, white teeth, which increases the demand for dental work, which increases the need for dentists and so on. Add to that the fact that dental care is relatively cheap (most insurance plans cover preventative care 100%) and you’ve got a country full of very pearly whites. However, not everyone is lucky enough to live in the land flowing with floss and fluoride. In most countries, good dental care is a luxury; it is expensive, in short supply and often highly questionable.

When I was in Bosnia, the town I lived in got visited by a British dentist on the third Tuesday of every month. She would set up shop in a trailer normally used as both a medical clinic and a veterinary office; it had no running water and the electricity was iffy at best. Wouldn’t you know it – I had a dental emergency. I had to wait a week and a half until she showed up drinking only warm yogurt and broth to sustain me. A hefty amount of Nektar, the locally produced beer, helped to dull the pain, or at least gave me a hangover so I forgot about my tooth. Have you ever had your teeth drilled? Now, imagine that with a foot pump drill. It was an agonizingly slow process, but after several hours in the chair, I had a filling. I also have a dental conversation piece. Every time I go to an American dentist, he looks at it, pokes it and makes some sort of concerned, questioning noises before finally asking something along the lines of, “What is that? Where did you get this?” followed by, “This material isn’t approved for use in the US.” At this point my only comment is, “uhng,” because his hands are still in my mouth. He finishes the exam with, “I don’t think we’re going to mess with it – it could be hazardous.” Great. I have a time bomb in my mouth that could fall out at any moment, releasing a burst of radiation and killing anyone within 15 feet of me.

So, today I went to the dentist for a teeth cleaning. My hygienist was a typically sweet, soft-spoken Japanese lady, dressed like she was prepared to do battle. She had several layers of rubber gloves, a smock, a cap, a face-shield, and a surgical mask. All I could see were her eyes. Now, when you go to the dentist, you naturally expect a certain amount of discomfort, even pain (I expect pain, as I always have a lot of calcification). I can take the discomfort, but this was totally unexpected. It was not the discomfort that got to me; it was the 25 minute nonstop litany of “Gomen Nasei, Gomen Nasei (I’m sorry, so sorry).” I wanted to tell her to sit down, have a sip of water, and compose herself. I was the one being scraped and poked and I felt bad for making her do it. When we were done and I flashed her a slightly bloody grin, I thought she was going to faint. I am going to work extra hard to keep my teeth as tartar and calcification free as possible, so she doesn’t have to worry so much about it next time.

Weak or porous teeth can indicate a lack of Vitamin D.