The Glory of Modern Dentistry

Or – How in the world am I going to pay for all this gadgetry?

Photo by Quang Tri NGUYEN on Unsplash

Dentists, my oral surgeon told me almost as an aside — he’s sticking needles in my jaws, and I’m supposed to feel sympathy? — have the highest suicide rate of any profession. I reflected on this, having nothing better to do at the moment.

After Googling around when I got home I learned that MDs are at greatest risk, but the DDS folks are close behind. This is not research, it’s only Googling, but here we are.

Back to my oral surgeon. I am spending a lot of time with oral surgeons, and oral everything elses, having reached the advanced age at which all that expensive stuff — crowns, implants, you name it — done 25 years ago wants to be redone. Regardless of how loudly I argue that I don’t need another 25 years — could they patch me up for five or six, maybe? — I find myself captive to the stratospheric talents (and costs) of today’s dentistry.

Rather pricey view from (one of) my dentist’s offices (Author photo)

Please do not get me wrong. I am immensely grateful to the entire profession, and the way they have kept me smiling through the years without looking like a toothless goofball. Eating is nice, too. So dentists and I are longtime besties.

But now I’m worried about their depression levels.

I do not want to get into the suicide business, which is a sad and serious issue never to be written about lightly. So I am only worrying about what might make them so sad.

Money? How can that be? Admittedly all that fancy equipment must cost a fortune — and many of my dentists are in an historic, heavily gilded downtown building on which I feel I pay upkeep. But as they all have other patients besides yours truly, and what I’m spending on this averages out to the choice between two weeks in Paris or fix that tooth — well, nobody’s talking minimum wage here.

It must be staring down throats all day. Have you considered how repulsive the view into your throat really is? I thought not. Or it could be the fear that, at any moment, an enraged patient might chomp down and amputate your gloved finger? That would definitely increase workplace anxiety.

Self portrait with (happily only temporarily) purple jaws (Author photo)

In the end, however, I have decided to quit worrying about my dentists’ health and wellbeing. They, after all, are not the ones with purple jaws and occasionally absent teeth. Plus, I’m assuming they can afford therapy, given the bills I am paying.

Now, about that bank I’m planning to rob . . .

Facing Up to Dental Terrors

The only thing worse than toothache/jaw pain, to be cruelly specific, is toothache/jaw pain without insurance. Most of us are without such insurance. It has not even been on the radar of health reform advocates, which is just as well — if you add dental terrorism to abortion and public options we won’t see reform for another few decades.

Nevertheless, tooth reform, euphemistically referred to as full mouth restoration in some circles, is ahead for increasing numbers of Americans sooner or later. It comes down roughly to a choice between fixing the mouth or buying a yacht, but if your jaw aches, you forgo the yacht.

New York Times health writer Jane Brody traced the new path of dental repair journeys in a thoughtful article yesterday, explaining her own costly route from tooth decay to bridges to implants, and throwing out an estimate of approximately $3,500 to $4,000 per tooth for the now-preferred latter. Multiply this by at least three or four times if you have other issues, which most of us do once things start going south in the mouth, needing attention. That would be gum problems, repair to surrounding teeth or necessary attention to bone.

I write with authority. Some years ago, facing all of the above, I visited an assortment of dentists with an assortment of solutions that frequently had me in tears when contemplating the time, details (one would have had screws in my jawbone which I would tighten every few days for months as it rebuilt itself) and costs. Like Brody, I grew up before the days of fluoridated water and have had more repair work since childhood than the Bay Bridge. It was a mess in there.

Finally my husband, whose best wives have been born in 1933 but with bad teeth, said, “Just do it all. Don’t be going patch-patch-patch; do it all.” I proceeded to choose the most sympathetic and understandable (most of them were, except for the screws-in-the-jaw guy) dental professionals, assembled a team and went to work. Or rather, I scrinched my eyes shut while they went to work. Some 18 months and $40,000 later we were free at last.

(Out of this experience, during which I was doing a great deal of entertaining just to keep us happy and sane, came one of my finer unpublished books, Cooking for the Dentally Impaired: Recipes and Menu Suggestions for the Impaired and Unimpaired in Difficult Times. I think it’s a book whose time has come; my agent disagrees.)

Brody’s article is a must-read for anyone stewing over this issue. The following are abbreviated tips for anyone with teeth and plans to keep them:

1 – Consider early-decision. The sooner things like gum surgery, crowns, implants-v-bridges or bone issues are dealt with, the likelier all can be made well and kept that way.

2 – Get second opinions. You may even choose the screw-in-the-jaw route, but there are many different procedures and it is good to find one suited to your temperament and bank account.

3 – Ask questions. I asked so many that I was fired by one team; a polite letter said they did not believe they should take my case. It’s just as well. Those I wound up with answered my questions and seemed happy to do so.

4 – Ask for references. Brody suggests this, and I agree. Because I already knew several people who had been patients of the dentists with whom I eventually invested all that time and money, talking with them about their experiences helped keep me from any surprises.

5 – Talk finances. Several friends of mine have had major dental expenses that were far outside their budget, but worked out payment schedules with their dentists so that necessary work could be done sooner rather than later.

Meanwhile: floss.