Dr. Von Bulow's Articles

So maybe I’m a little sensitive about another birthday, okay?  But what’s the big deal with questions like “Is this one special?” or “How old are you now anyway?”   I wanna know how my vital stats make a world-class difference for others?  And even if they did, what’s in it for me?

I’ll tell ya right now, if any of you are VP Cheney rude enough to ask, you’ll get a lie in response.  And it’s your own dang fault.  Any questions?

Sometimes nature has an over-underestimated sense of humor and there you have my long overdue tribute to President Dubya.  Yeah, if son of Big George and I were both 75, we’d look pretty good for our age.  But there are some telltale Nature jokes/subtleties that give us away and make our old beat-up classmates feel totally better about themselves.

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I’ve always been kind of amused by ads that emphasize “cosmetic” restorative dentistry.  Restorative dentistry does what it says it does; it restores what’s been broken down or lost.  The parameters range from a filling to an entire dentition.  But shucks, unless we have way more vision than we really need, most molar jockeys use nature as our guide and work at mimicking what looks right.

So hopefully, we all do cosmetic dentistry.  The alternative would be dentistry that looks like the bruins on offense.  I don’t think so.

What’s really exciting about the way we do things these days is the distinction between getting a flat tire on your new ride and tooling around town on one of those funny little donut spares, as opposed to matching the three surviving tires and having the car detailed.

Dentistry today is more about the big picture; it’s comprehensive and built on long-term relationships.  It isn’t about fixing a flat; it’s more like keeping the car looking good and running well for 200,000 miles 

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Today I sent in my re-licensure paperwork and a check made out to the State Board of Dental Examiners.  And when I print out the ole P&L report and scan the cost of doing business with dental labs, dental suppliers, and the Tax Man (Did I actually leave out insurance expense?), the tab for my now nearly classic license looks like a pretty sweet deal.

But trust me; I won’t be making too many “sweet deal” remarks around recent grads who qualify only because they’ve already spent hundreds of thousands for school and hundreds of thousands more if they’re ready to roll the dice on opening a new business. 

Yeah, $335 isn’t half bad.  Shucks, what with the value of gold these days, you could almost pay the lab fee for one crown with three bills and change.  And I hope you’ll forgive some dang cynicism creeping in; think maybe I’ve been watching a little too much Doc House Monday nights.

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So I realize I’m getting a little older because I don’t wake up in the middle of the night any more, totally convinced I’ve been removed from dental school for calling Doc “Wrath of” Kahn a little weenie.  I guess birthdays do have some advantages.

For the most part, I loved being a student.  Shucks, the only times I remember being under the classroom gun were during Catechism and dental school; everything in between was pure hot fudge sundaes.  My teachers always had my unconditional attention and respect; with the exception of dental school, I always felt the feeling was mutual.

Of course, my family always took a personal interest in what I did.  Sometimes it was almost embarrassing.  If my brother had only known I could actually use dental floss in grade school, he’d have told the world.  And today, I always view patients in the context of family.  I kid around with the family thing during a patient’s first visit, sharing most of my relatives are Sicilian (the Familia never forgets and they’re bent on revenge.)  Not a bad guarantee for my best clinical effort.

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So here’s the thing; when DDS-types like me start yammering around in dentalese right in front of patients, that’s bad enough.  But when we minimize disease and then go extreme on describing the proper care, that’s just plain stupid.

I’ve seen the dentalese approach practically put folks into a deep trance.  Patients just sit there absently nodding with eyelids aflutter hoping somehow I’ll finally stop verbalizing so they can escape.  But these days my dental assistants do a good job keeping me on track (Singing Dental Assistant Kolleen just points to her watch while Dental Assistant Extraordinaire Dani prefers a more dramatic Sicilian hand gesture.)  And I guess if I hired on assistants to support me in every aspect of life I’d have more friends and fewer broken tennis rackets.  But I digress.

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So last week I returned from an amazing annual dental conference experience and I couldn’t help but notice how much more inspiring those things are when a bunch of dentists aren’t doing all the talking.  And that’s one reason why I’m writing.

It’s a curious time when there are zero cab lines at McCarran Airport in Vegas but two parking tickets on my windshield at LAX.  Guess it would help if my ultimate vehicle had a spot for a license plate up front but two citations in a parked car seems excessive (unless the plates also serve as my mailing address.)  Anyway, if the LAPD is set on pumping my money out of the economy at $70 a pop these days, it’s back to Ontario, even if I get to see Sacramento on the way to Sin City and other destinations now unknown.

But for dental patients and even the 50% of you that stay away, now may be the best time ever to invest in your oral health and travel non-stop to the dentist.  And I’m saying this before I’ve paid my bills and after I’ve written my side of our annual team member growth conferences, so I’m about as objective as I’m gonna get.

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So back in the Day, some 20 years ago, Temple City was much the same town I knew as a kid being accompanied by either Mom or Dad and buying school clothes at Stoppel’s.

When teeth whitening debuted around 1990, I tried-out the approach on friends, relatives, and team members. Shucks, most of the relatives in question had already survived my early clinical efforts in dental school so I knew they could probably survive a little dose of hydrogen peroxide.

And yeah, at first, I thought teeth whitening was pretty superficial, shallow stuff. But it didn’t take long for me to adjust my opinion. Firstly, teeth whitening was a slam-dunk; it worked and it was safe.

I had no idea where whiter, brighter smiles would lead. As it turned out, folks who’d stayed away from the dentist the way the Clippers stay away from the play-offs, began to trickle in, open wide, and catch up.

So because of teeth whitening, oral cancers were detected, gum disease was diagnosed, and hypertension was measured; folks were reconnected with their oral health; some lives were even saved. But I had no idea how many future lives would be touched.
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Gotta tell ya, I sure do love Invisalign. What I just said is significant.

Back when I was a dental student and O.J. was busy pitching Hertz rent-a-cars while he was running through airports, I sure did hate orthodontics. When I somehow escaped dental school in the dead of night and started out from scratch in TC, I couldn’t believe my one co-worker, Former Office Manager Diane, had previously been paid to bend orthodontic wires. If I had only known FOM Diane while I was a student, I’d have somehow raised the cash to pay her off for a wire job well done.

I’m not suggesting students should go out and hire folks to do their work; I’m just making clear the sort of fantasies this former student used to entertain (the Doc “wrath of” Kahn productions are not suited for impressionable readers younger than grandparents of Baby Boomers.)

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This morning I sat down to write about oral cancer awareness.

I realize oral cancer gets its share of space around here and I was a little concerned about my maybe just going through the motions. I think I was also feeling self-conscious about being repetitious or perhaps just a bit short on material.

When I started out writing for the Weekly I really didn’t like my chances for coming up with a topic every single week. I wondered exactly what was in store for the readers after about Week Eight. I soon developed a routine or ritual where I would go see a movie Friday afternoon and then write the article. Something about being moved by what I saw on the big screen (if I wasn’t moved, I rented a favorite that would do the job) inspired me to look at the past week with a fresher perspective. This morning was sort of like Week Seven…until I remembered a certain video.

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Webster’s defines the word temporary as meaning “not permanent”. Seems my Webster’s trouble started way back in dental school.

For those who are fortunate enough to be uninitiated regarding the crown experience, here’s how it usually goes. The patient comes in for appointment #1 and has the tooth in question shaped; in the process, tooth decay and existing restorations get removed. When the shaping is done and everything’s clean and there’s enough space for a crown to fit over the tooth without sticking out too far or wide, the dentist takes an impression. When poured up in plaster, the impression will show the technician exactly what the tooth looks like after the shaping. The technician then builds the crown to fit the model poured from the impression. The next appointment is for cementing the crown to the tooth. Between appointments I and II, the patient wears a temporary crown.

Everyone confused yet?

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