Dr. Von Bulow's Articles

When I met with A Few Words from the Chair author/patient spokesperson David Clow, he observed a typical dental experience could be all about clinical smiles while no actual smiling was going on. It was often like, for the lack of a friendly, human smile, a smile was lost. And what about the smile from within?

A great example from David Clow’s book is the transcendent smile on the face of the Buddha. And how can you help but wonder about the health and happiness on the inside creating such an expressive result on the outside? Turns out, some traditional Eastern meditation exercises are designed to cultivate an inner smile. Buddhists and Taoists teach smiling is good medicine (I’d like to see some of those exercises turn up as Continuing Ed for dental school faculty.)

Clow quotes Buddhist master Thich Nhat Hanh, explaining, “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile and sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”

About a month ago when I met new patient Martha, she was upset, depressed, and frustrated. And she was sobbing. Martha was basically being held captive by a smile she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, share. I remember sitting down and having a conversation. Martha did most of the talking; I did most of the listening. Seemed like the best care we could offer that first day was a friendly ear and equal doses of understanding and reassurance. Martha could have been my daughter.

So I’ve yet to experience an official endorphin that I know of during spin class. And shucks, if I could restore smiles like Martha’s every other day and not even twice on Sunday I probably wouldn’t have to exercise at all.

Martha later shared that on leaving the office with her new smile she pulled over to the side of Las Tunas, glanced up into the rear view mirror and cried…from relief and joy. And the smile we get to see today is a great match for the beautiful person we met on Day One.

I also used to wonder about “Family” dentistry. Like, was the alternative “Hot Singles” dentistry or even worse, “Disco” dentistry? But today, I think I finally understand; I get it. And what is family dentistry if not a loving network of smiles from within?

So I’ve been a Celtics diehard since I was a little kid. And that takes me way back to the good ole days when Bill Russell and Bob Cousy used to use and abuse the Lakers on a yearly basis. Kobe Bean Bryant wasn’t even a glimmer.

You’d think somewhere along the school days line some big ugly Lakers bully would have set me straight. But since “Lakers” and “bully” are close cousins to military intelligence and bruin football and my probably adopted DNA includes a deep streak of sneakiness, nothing happened.

Last week, OM Dalila and I hopped on an early AM flight to Bean Town. We were hoping to learn a few things about internal practice systems, Little Italy, and small business strategies for a challenging economy (you’d think setting up shop on Las Tunas would have taught us that lesson long ago.) We battled through LAX and said goodbye to Dr. Tooth from 28,000 feet.

By the time we got to Phoenix, fellow Friendly Skies traveler Marilyn said hello, shortly followed by, “Why would anyone wanna be a dentist?”

So I hate myself when I knee-jerk a wiseacre proctologist/podiatrist comparison. And Marilyn had a soft, warm, inviting voice so I went about explaining why I love my career.

Folks really don’t answer a calling or live passionately because they fix pieces of anatomy or really understand human body zip codes. Learning, perfecting the implementation of knowledge, and sharing it is pretty exciting stuff; even comprising some of the tastiest spices of life. And gaining results that weren’t even on the radar when my parents were my age? Wow.

But pie hole, culo, or size 11s, the real reward and fulfillment comes from giving out some human gifts…like discovery, hope, and renewal. Transforming quality of life and building lasting relationships in the process is way bigger than any small business. And, it’s addictive.

So when I looked at Marilyn I was reminded of one lovely lady who got out of the house and drove somewhere alone for the first time in twenty years because she finally felt so comfortable going to the dentist (I think Singing Dental Assistant Kolleen came back with the Martinelli’s.) I thought about all the trusting folks who would live longer, happier lives just because they loved our hygienists. And I remembered a beautiful young woman who shared a full out, no holds barred smile…for the first time since 2nd Grade.

Sometimes it’s the journey. Einstein said, “Out of difficulty comes opportunity.” Especially when you’re looking for it.

So what I learned on the way to Boston and what I took away from some 30 hours of my continuing, continuing education was this: We may have absolutely no control over stuff like the U.S. economy but we are totally in control of being responsible for the choices we make and the opportunities we find.

And for patient and practitioner alike, why not be happy about both?

So this weekend there was so much positive stuff going on I almost couldn’t believe it. Up until, “The envelope…please.”

Thursday (the new Friday) got things rolling with Twin Tower of Hygiene Jen and me attending a Pete Carroll Circle of Friends event at LA Live’s Lucky Strike. And if you’re starved for inspiration, I suggest sharing some time with folks who’re committed to transforming young lives often found in the “presumed lost” column. Coach Pete might be the highest paid educator in The Land and what’s the going price for hope?

Yesterday, I met with author David Clow. David’s journalism has appeared in national, local, business and scientific publications. His corporate communications have served Fortune 100 market leaders. David has written a documentary film series Understanding Cities and co-authored a novel Six Lessons for Six Sons. Last week, I opened a package to find David’s latest work A Few Words from the Chair. The book provides an eloquent human insight into what’s missing and the miracle of what’s possible out of the dental “caring” experience. The book needs to be required reading for dental students and graduates, period. And in his note, David actually admitted to admiring my stuff.

And tonight, if I can get my already over-sized head through the door, my TCDC gang and 200 or so close friends will be rolling out to Rancho Cucamonga for our eighth annual Oral Cancer Awareness Night at the Ballpark. If you can find something better to do than hang out with your buddies and share about life saving opportunities that are as easy as a trip to the dentist, let’s get in touch soon.

And then…I opened the mail. First up: the Stage Coach.

I guess I’m just a “bad news first” kind of guy. And more often than not these days, banks’ copy seems to occupy my negative leadoff spot. I’m a little intrigued and puzzled when the institutions we trust with our life hopes and dreams take on a casual regard for responsibility but retain the role of judge and jury over our businesses. Lately, the relationship has almost been the equivalent of our turning over the keys to the family car to a mechanic wearing a mask and carrying a gun.

So when I opened the Wells Fargo envelope I saw a certain VP named Ms. Sheri Wofford had cut my business card limit. Now I guess Ms. Wofford was just doing her job and she must be pretty busy these days because she’s apparently been forced to relinquish her phone number and e-mail address.

And when I can’t speak or write to folks covered by the WF Witness Protection Program, I start wondering. I wondered how my balance that wasn’t close to the limit or my payments that were exponentially more than the minimum posed a threat to the Stage Coach. I wondered how my retaining full employment and benefits with no salary cuts was endangering the economy. Couldn’t help but wonder if Wells Fargo was doing as well as TCDC; wondered if Ms. Wofford was surrounded by happy co-workers and had been on the job for the last 33 years.

Every practice management consultant I’ve met has advised against my being “the bank.” But in the interest of helping my patients live long healthy lives and in the absence of a human banking institution that deserves any trust at all, I politely disagree.

Tomorrow is Father’s Day and my Dad always suggested, “If you can’t say anything nice…” Sorry Dad, just this once:

“Dear Ms. Wofford and the Wells Fargo Gang,

To paraphrase Mr. Bart Simpson, hope you don’t choke on my shorts.

Your faithful small business servant,

JVB…or #2468”

So I probably haven’t gone more than two days in a row without doing some serious cardio exercise since I was just old enough to go out and play, locked and loaded with only my training wheels and a vivid imagination.

When you’re a kid, running around all the time comes naturally. And if you were growing up back in The Day like me, Sheriff John conducted the video games and they were called cartoons. Don’t know about you guys, but for me, the Mouse and the Duck wore out their welcome in about 15 minutes; Goofy was good for one toon and out. I needed to be outside; I had places to ride and people to antagonize. To this day, the only videos that will slow me down are shown on big screens.

My shingle had been hanging out here in Temple City for only about two months when I came home one night for Saturday dinner with my folks and saw my Dad die in a matter of minutes from a massive heart attack.

I’ll never forget that awful March 6; doubt I’ll ever really recover from it.

And I still love doing my cardio. Always privately thought exercise was my shield; my armor to stuff like heart disease and diabetes (both of which can be found in my family history.)

Even though Dental Assistant Extraordinaire Dani laughs at the mere mention of my ever having played basketball at any time since Naismith invented it, I played roundball almost every day of my life from age 12 to 30.

But approaching apprehensive patients with a handful of experience, power tools, and jammed fingers didn’t seem like the formula for inspiring confidence…or returned visits. So I took up tennis. My idol was John McEnroe.

McEnroe was a little guy and a world-class athlete…with a Universe-class mouth. He dictated the points with a great serve and volley game. He was creative and smart. He didn’t like practicing. He was a punk and he got away with it. I thought we had sooo much in common.

McEnroe’s nemesis and mine was Ivan Lendl. Lendl was mechanical, methodical, and relentless. He wasn’t as physically gifted as McEnroe but he was superbly conditioned. He had no visible personality and if he had ever smiled “train wreck” would have been the first words popping into your cabeza.

So I guess even though I wanted to be McEnroe, I was way more like Lendl. Right down to our cock-eyed teeth and increased risk of early age heart attack.

While I could hope to match McEnroe on the court as a world-class mouth, my athleticism has always been a distant cousin to my conditioning. I’ve always had to work hard and while I definitely have punk potential…I never seem to get away with it.

And until Temple City’s own Doc Fong won his Orthodontic Nobel Prize by unraveling my teeth, my computer Silent Hal had a more pleasing smile than either Ivan or me. As it turns out, Silent Hal was also at less risk for heart attack.

Crowded teeth turn out being safe havens for anaerobic bacteria, the most virulent microbes causing periodontal disease. And in a study published in Circulation, April of 2008, periodontal disease was associated with the incidence of fatal coronary heart disease among younger men, independent of any other cardiovascular risk factors.

The New England Journal of Medicine, March 2007, has also published research showing marked improvement in vascular function only 60 days following periodontal treatment.

Pink gums and straight teeth matter. And the stakes could be length and quality of life. Apparently, even if you’re young, a male, and in good shape.

So I guess you guys already know Coach Pete and I are pretty close. Seems like every time we get together to just kick back and share some thoughts on defensive schemes, competition, or maybe even Invisalign, Trojan diehards start crawling out of the woodwork. And how am I supposed to conduct a quality virtual interview surrounded by folks who keep on interrupting and pestering us for autographs?

And let me make one thing perfectly clear right now. I am not a coach and I am not on the USC payroll. In fact, I’m very proud and overjoyed just to have a “zero” balance. I guess what you can call me is an unpaid consultant. I attend some practices; the players don’t even say “Hi” and then Pete and I just sort of BS about stuff that I notice. Stuff like, “Should #77’s mouth be Cardinal and Gold too? Red gums and yellow teeth don’t look so healthy.”

About a month ago, Pete and I got together to bowl a few Lucky Strike frames down at LA Live. Twin Tower of Hygiene Jen begged to tag along; Kinesiologist to the elite athletes Doc Sahara showed up hoping to ride my coattails to an unpaid consultancy position of his own. While we were there, the usual horde of folks descended on the place, threatening the intimacy of my virtual interview witnessed by a couple of close friends.

The following interview in no way reflects the opinion of USC, the NCAA, the Pac-10, the ADA, CDA, TCDC…or Judy Wong, Randy Wang, or anyone else associated with that shifting pile of dirt we in Temple City affectionately call “The Piazza (coming soon.)”

“Coach Pete, as always, it’s great seeing ya. Whaddya make of all these people mobbing us again?”

“Dr. V, can’t tell ya how stoked I am about getting together. It’s totally awesome how much I learn about football and dentistry when we hang out. And I’ve been reading all your stuff and lovin’ it. Just between you and me, you gotta ask (LA Times’ sportswriter) Plaschke, “Who’s your Daddy?”

“Wow coach, thanks for the kind words; just my humble way of giving back…without coaching. But what about all these people?”

“Young Jack, gotta tell ya, it’s amazing and it’s totally cool. Everyone here is from A Better LA. I just did that “The Secret” thing on the way over here and they all showed up. Unbelievable! Awesome!!!” Bet ya Neuheisel could never pull that one off.”

“So Coach Pete, how’re we gonna do this year?”

“J-Von, it’s awesome you asked that cool and perceptive question. This is the most athletic, passionate, and intelligent group of young men we’ve ever had at USC. They could be special. I’m just a little confused over the quarterback position…

“Pete, stay with Aaron Corp.”

“Jackson! The final piece of the puzzle! I hear you’re still the foremost dentist/writer/elite athlete in the San Gabriel Valley. How am I ever gonna repay you for your awesome unpaid consulting and mentoring?”

“Careful there coach. Just keep on doing what you’re doing, especially making such a huge difference for all the Inner City folks who crashed our interview. As for Villaraigosa over there, he can take care of himself. But there’s just this one thing, if you could… I’ve always wondered.

“J-Dawg, you name it!”

“Pete, is that really gray hair? Are those black roots?”

“Bite me, molar jockey.”