Dr. Von Bulow's Articles

So I realize things are a little tougher to figure out these days. And there are times when I swear I’d rather be represented by Manny, Moe, and Curly Joe than the Governator, the old TC “Gang of Five,” and whomever it is who keeps leaving out my contact info at the end of these columns. Then again, sometimes you never know when help is on the way.

Like I knew there was a Bailout of some sort going on (I read about it in all the papers.) I just didn’t figure it would be limited to some hard luck CEOs. And I’ve always been uncomfortable judging folks who weren’t bruin fans. But how do y’all feel about being judged by banks? Don’t know about you guys but to me it feels like having the Crips and Bloods jump all over my case just because I have a few parking violations.

And just when I was prouder of my alma mater than Joey Chestnut can eat hot dogs on the Fourth of July the school goes totally ghetto. The USC president, athletic director and basketball coach clam up like a bunch of Watergate defendants, undoubtedly following the sound legal advice traditionally reserved for cheats and liars. If somehow Coach Pete Carroll is implicated in the death of Karl Malden, I’m gonna give up following organized sports and spend most of my leisure time watching the Clippers and bruin football.

I guess in an attempt to get away from it all, I went out and played some golf this morning. And I say “some” golf because according to patient/foursome member/tool collector Steven D., during my eighteen holes and somewhere around 4 hours at Santa Anita, I only played 3 holes of golf requiring some 23 minutes. The rest was just a long angry walk in the park spiced up with some dark blue dentalesian soliloquies.

Then, out of the abyss, a miracle.

After several decades of my hiding, I ran into Mr. Robert Low, my Government teacher from Mark Keppel High. And I guess I’m insufferably Old School. I’ll never text and I know you’re never supposed to say never but I’m also never gonna tweet (I am on Facebook.) I use my cell phone the way the bruins win BCS championships and I know one day I’ll get hauled in for verbally and physically abusing my computer. And even though I met him around the time the Beatles landed, it will never be Bob. It will always be Mr. Low.

Mr. Low was my all-time toughest, most memorable and best teacher during my 4-year stint at Mark Keppel. I did more Government reading the summer before my year with Mr. Low than I did during the year with all my other classes combined. Our group of about 20 or so students in “Accelerated” Government included a few National Merit Scholars, assorted future doctors and lawyers, and maybe the best sportswriter this side of Jim Murray. So in that select company, who wouldn’t try handing in a book report, having scanned only the inside cover? Oh, and the book? Pretty lightweight stuff; only Senator Fulbright’s Old Myths and New Realities, his landmark commentary on “The arrogance of power.”

“Mr. Von Bulow, would you mind stopping by for a word before leaving class?” And later, “Mr. Von Bulow, should you choose to return a book report in the future, I suggest you first read the book.”

Years later, after I’d been practicing dentistry in Temple City for a while, I opened up a “City of Covina” envelope (another parking ticket?) It was correspondence from then and now Covina City Councilman, Mr. Robert Low. Mr. Low had spotted one of my nasty little notes to the Times’ Sports Viewpoint; he recalled the halcyon years at Keppel with classmates pediatrician Bill Visser and sportswriter extraordinaire Scott Ostler.

I still have the note.

And what better time to re-read Senator Fulbright’s views on “The arrogance of power?” Think I’ll pass a copy forward to the next hard luck CEO I meet.

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.”

Not that long ago I found myself sitting on the Board of Directors for no less than five different non-profit organizations, including Haven House in Pasadena. Funny thing, my sitting happened almost overnight. Another funny thing; I had no idea what was expected of Board members.

I’d taken on a program outside of dentistry on the advice of a trusted friend and mentor. And what started out as my opportunity to share time with folks who really needed to get their act together turned out being transformative for yours truly. Shucks, don’t think I’ve been quite the same ever since.

Okay, so maybe you’re thinking I must have hit my head in spin class and woke up as Zen Master JVB? But what really happened is after 20 years or so of talk, I finally went to Italy. And, I joined the Board at Haven House in Pasadena.

And I couldn’t be more proud of my affiliation with Haven House. The folks there committed to the everyday success of the organization are Golden. Not only is Haven House a safe place, it’s a place that saves generations.

Haven House, founded in 1964, is indeed the first shelter for victims of domestic violence established in the United States. And the shelter is the model for all similar organizations that have followed.

Domestic violence is shockingly pervasive in our society; even more so during uncertain economic times. In fact, some 31% of American women report being physically or sexually abused by their husband or boyfriend at some time during their lives. 25% of workplace problems such as absenteeism, low productivity, turnover, and excessive use of medical benefits are due to domestic violence. Boys who witness their father’s violence are ten times more likely to become domestic violence perpetrators.

As I’m writing, the shelter is filled to capacity but Haven House is way more than a hotel for unbelievably courageous Moms and children bold enough to break a generational pattern of fear. Haven House also maintains a Children’s Program, two Outreach Programs, and presents “Domestic Violence in the Workplace” (the presentation really hit home when I discovered members of the TCDC crew had experienced domestic violence.)

In the current economic environment, Haven House and the other 105 shelters in California face some dire challenges; one of which is the Governor’s decision to eliminate all state funding for domestic violence shelters.

If you’ve ever wanted to make a difference and life seems to always be getting in the way, making a difference for Haven House families could be as transformative for you as it has been for me. A local treasure like Haven House should not only survive, it should continue to lead. And why not be a part of something as fulfilling as saving families and the generations that follow?

If you’d like to help, please contact Haven House at (626) 564 8880. You can also call me at (626) 283 5504.

Please look for an upcoming Haven House event supported by Temple City Dental Care on Saturday morning, September 12. Beautiful Breakthru Fitness will host the event. Breakthru is located at 345 South Lake Ave, Suite 201 (right next to Trader Joe’s.) It would be a great time to learn more about Haven House. Please come by and say hello. You can also take an outdoor spin class for a Haven House donation (I’ll match it.)

My Mom and Dad both had diabetes. And I know having the disease wasn’t part of their plans. My experience helping out my parents has helped me in more ways than one; here’s a shot at passing it forward.

My Dad was diagnosed with diabetes at age 50; he had had no obvious symptoms. The elevated blood glucose level showed up in a blood test taken during a check-up. Dad immediately transformed his diet; couldn’t possibly have been more compliant. Never saw Dad drink another cold one; good thing he wasn’t allergic to salmon and vegetables.

When Mom was diagnosed with the disease in her late-70s; she had loads of symptoms. In a health care/gender role reversal, Mom almost had to be dragged to an appointment with a physician. By the time Mom finally agreed to a visit, we nearly had to carry her in.

Dad enjoyed going to the dentist the way I enjoy Bruin football. In fact, one story has it he once sneaked out of a waiting room on hearing some distressing sounds coming from some poor soul receiving dental care nearby…and no, it wasn’t my office. Dad died of a heart attack a couple of months after I opened my practice here in Temple City, just one year into his retirement. We never did get around to even an exam and x-rays.

My Mom loved going to the dentist. After an early debate over Mom’s vision of ideal painless care with no local anesthetic (a rare debate I actually won) and some early fillings, Mom pretty much cruised through the next 15 years or so with no cavities or gum problems.

Mom didn’t walk anywhere up until about age 75. She ran. Mom used the Diabetic Diet way before she’d ever heard of it. Dripping wet, my 5-foot tall Mom never weighed more than 100 pounds. Up until diabetes-related neuropathy, mini-strokes, and progressive kidney failure, Mom could have danced teenagers off the floor.

A diabetes symptom I happened to pick up during a dental check-up explained my finding Mom with a whopping totally out-of-character 13 cavities. The cavities had resulted from “dry mouth,” an oral condition common with diabetes.

An even more common oral condition is periodontal disease (or gum and bone disease.) It’s estimated that 80-90% of people with diabetes also suffer from periodontal disease. Diabetes has a major impact on the ability of small blood vessels to facilitate the flow of nutrients to and removal of waste from body tissue. The result is tissue that doesn’t effectively heal.

So it’s bad enough that periodontal disease is a leading cause of tooth loss. For diabetics, the worse news is periodontal disease makes controlling diabetes even more challenging. And I often wonder about my Dad’s periodontal risk. Could proper diagnosis, continuing care, and consistent monitoring of possible periodontal disease have made a difference?

The irony is both diseases have so much in common. Diabetes and periodontal disease are both chronic and episodic; they’re managed not cured. Both diseases have an insidious onset but can easily, painlessly be diagnosed by objective numbers; and both have been proven to be connected to other health challenges such as heart disease and stroke.

If you’ve been diagnosed with diabetes, seeing your dentist is a must. And as in my Mom’s case, 6.3 million Americans suffer from the disease without the benefit of a timely visit to a physician and a diagnosis.

Please be responsible and see your physician and dentist. The statistical consequences for unmanaged periodontal disease alone equal about seven years of life expectancy and untold years of life quality.

So just do the right thing.

Okay, so a few weekends ago I went to a convention. And how would you like to be this close to the Magic Kingdom only to wind up being surrounded by thousands of dentists and tens of thousands of sales reps?

The California Dental Association presented “The Art and Science of Dentistry” in Anaheim on May 14-17 and I just couldn’t help but reflect.

First thing I noticed was my official convention On-Site Guide. It was sealed by a wrap-around ad from the Bank of America. The headline proclaimed, “WE HAVE MONEY TO LEND.” Hmmm.

Then I noticed what should have been first (and would have been first without our uncertain economy and my warped sense of humor;) all the women. When I was a kid-DDS and attended the CDA convention I was way overwhelmed by the wealth of womanly riches in the profession I’d so astutely chosen. Today, my appreciation has more of the depth you’d expect from someone who’s practiced dentistry since Disco.

But early on, for me, going to the convention was like spring break from four years in a boy’s Catholic school. My dental school class of 120 students included all of two women. Today, the men-women ratio goes to 50:50. These days, my perception of all the women in oral health is a little different than spring break (but not totally.) Experience has taught me women make all the difference in dentistry.

Hate to sound arrogant but you just have to respect a profession that gets it. In dentistry, the practice vision comes from the owner and its development and reality comes from team members (code for women.) Women create the culture. And it’s probably no accident that 2/3 of the folks who are smart enough to find a happy dental home are women too. Why not? Don’t women also make about 80% of important family choices?

So I just might be the living, breathing, grunting epitome of the typical surface-polite male. I can read a map so who needs to ask for directions? Show me a picture; I don’t need to read any instructions. Sarcasm used to be a hobby. And I did use the past tense.

I’ve been a total project. My Mom made me a life’s work. My dental family away from home has provided on-the-job training for years and OM Dalila, Dental Assistant Extraordinaire Dani, Singing Dental Assistant Kolleen, and Twin Towers of Hygiene Jen and Peg should all get medals. And I’ve even had formal training in active listening for cryin’ out loud!

So if I’m a functioning adult with perception and organizational skills that succeed on a level at least comparable to Shaq foul shots or former-VP Cheney’s grasp of reality, it’s only because of the women in my life.

I’m surrounded by caring folks who relate to others the way Picasso related to scratch paper. Talk about making a difference in the health care experience.

As I toured the convention floor, one by one, I ran into four of our own sales reps from Patterson and Pearson Dental Supplies, Invisalign, and Care Credit. They each complimented me on my practice but saved special praise for my team. They used words like “warm,” “family,” and “happy.”

A beloved mentor once shared, “We’ve got the best job in the World. All we need to do is show up, empower our team, give some direction when you know you should…and then just stay out of the way.”

And these days I’ll often ask for directions even before panic sets in. I remain a work in progress.

The CDA presented “The Art and Science of Dentistry” last weekend. And women provide about half of the science and almost all of the art. So I’m a male but even I know when to stay out of the way.

Within my very first few months of treating patients with Invisalign, something happened that I’d never forget. I saw someone’s life change and I had a front row seat.

I think of Diana every single time we begin Invisalign Care. And there are numerous reasons.

Forget that I never really liked Orthodontics when I was a student and therefore never saw straightening teeth as part of my clinical future. But I’ll be the first guy to admit receiving orthodontic care changed my life. Back in The Day, I just didn’t see me on the giving side of the proposition.

I actually used to cover my mouth with my hand when I was speaking. If early patients didn’t have canine-type reception, hearing Bolton was easier for them than understanding me. So I started my practice here in Temple City as the expressive dentist equivalent of a flabby personal trainer or a food critic who counted catsup as a vegetable.

By the time Invisalign came along (Originally the work of two MBA candidates at Stanford) I was way more than seriously curious about all the new clinical advances in dentistry. The office was loaded with cameras and computers and lasers…and I still felt a little threatened by the dental engineering also known as Orthodontics. Finally, I figured if two non-DDS types had dreamed up the system, there might actually be something to it. I gained certification as soon as GPs became eligible for training.

I met Diana at a Pasadena Chamber breakfast. I love Chamber functions because the folks who attend are such dedicated networkers they don’t even run away screaming when you tell ’em you’re a dentist.

Diana won a free TCDC Zoom! Teeth Whitening in the raffle held at the end of every monthly breakfast. After a while, she made the drive down Baldwin and within an hour or so had a smile about 5 shades lighter. After folks visit us and walk away with whiter teeth I’m more likely emboldened to ask a few questions. One question is, “Do you have any other concerns about your smile?” This time the answer was, “I know darn well you’re looking at it.”

Diana had had great whitening results and everything was looking good…with the exception of one badly discolored upper front tooth that was also sticking out at an angle not much unlike Sarah Brightman taking a curtain call in front of the rest of the lined-up cast of The Phantom.

Diana helped head up a local non-profit, her children were all grown up, her family had always come first; you’ll never meet warmer person. On Zoom! Day, plus 10 minutes, Diana shared she’d hated that tooth for at least 40 years. She never smiled without posturing to hide the tooth, hated having her picture taken, and subconsciously screened her mouth from sight, using her hand as a prop. Hmmm, been there.

Diana had heard all about Orthodontics but didn’t want braces. “What if we straightened that tooth without using braces and matched colors by placing a porcelain veneer without removing more than about 0.5 millimeters of enamel? Would you be interested?”

“Can you do all the work here?”

“Would you prefer that?”

I still attend the monthly Pasadena Chamber breakfasts. The scrambled eggs continue to need some work; there are more chiropractors present than dentists in the state of Nebraska, and the guy who leads the meeting is an unapologetic bruin honk (poor devil.) And the whole experience is a total blast.

Especially when Diana delivers her 20-second commercial with a big, beautiful freely expressed smile.