For most of my life -- certainly, all of the parts that I remember -- my teeth have been a problem. Much of that has been my fault, and some of it has been genetic. I now have in my mouth just about everything that dental science can do, from fillings of various flavors and sizes to permanent bridges to an implant. When I had the second bridge put in, the cheerful oral surgeon commented that I really ought to have three other teeth pulled, too, as they 'weren't doing me any good'. I didn't, and that was about three years ago. Last week, the earnest dental hygienicist at my periodontist's office informed me that I had some very deep pocketing around one of my back molars, and she doubted that the tooth could be saved. She said that they would reevaluate me when I came back in three months.
The reason that I see a hygienicist at the periodontists office is because I know that I have very poor willpower when it comes to doing the things that I now insist that my daughter do, and which, I don't doubt, my parents insisted I do when I was young. I have the classic roller coaster slope of intent; very high immediately after being at their office, gradually slipping down over time, with the occasionally slight bump up at the twinge of conscience, and then ramping sharply up in the weeks prior to a re-visit. My expectation was that they would keep an eye on me which was sharper, more alert, than my general practice dentist. But when they didn't -- when they just did basic cleaning, and the periodontist would pop in, glance around in there, and leave -- I never pushed it, never said Dammit ! I want exhaustive dental writeups and evaluation!
So when the comment came, I wasn't overly surprised. Lose the tooth? I had someone planning on taking it out years ago. Sure, I don't like the idea, but I can live with it. But the attitude of the comment -- that got me. Because it clearly -- if not literally -- said This is your fault. And I don't think it is, not entirely. About 70%, yes, maybe even 80. But the reason I paid the higher rates of that office was to get protection -- an auxiliary conscience -- that it now appears I didn't get. I think it would have made a difference -- not a big one, but perhaps it would have put off the inevitable for another six months or another year.
So I'm going to write a letter to the dentist, telling him, in essence, that I think they let me down. I don't expect much good to come of it, and I am sure that their first reaction will be It's your fault, dammit, but if when I do go back, they don't have that attitude on display, it'll be worth it. Mostly.
Think I'll go tell my daughter to go brush her teeth again.
2 comments:
You STILL reading Gordon's book? (Course, I re-read it every couple of years...I consider it the Unified Field Theory of structures...)
I had an interesting story about my choppers.... at the risk of looking like a damned spammer (I AM NOT!), my archives have the whole story. The post has the beginnings of it, and the comments have the rest.
http://yusefjournal.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_yusefjournal_archive.html
So, how goes the search for AI?
Its like the joke about the texan who saw the lifeguard giving his son artificial resuscitation; apprised of what was happening, he shouted 'Hell with that, boy! I can afford it -- use the real thing!' I'm trying to muddle through with the real thing for a while. Haven't given up, though I probably should.
As for the book, its still on the table. The others get put on top of it, and I only see it when I lift them up. But I like it, though its a little arduous, and I don't want to give up on it quite yet. At the moment, I'm reading the Geisha book, just for the novelty of it. That, and rereading the Vorkosigan novels about a thousand times.
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