I used to have these recurring nightmares that my teeth were falling out of my mouth. In others, they were rotting, turning brown and stinking really bad, repulsing those around me. Some dream experts say these mean that I’m obsessed with my appearance, going to get money, or I’m just going through a stressful period. Others claim it’s a mere sign of bruxism—grinding your teeth, which I have been known to do in my sleep.
But I suspect these dreams may have been a byproduct of never flossing my teeth or brushing twice a day. Yes I know that’s disgusting. Plus I hadn’t seen a dentist since getting sober. By the time I had five years of sobriety, it’d been 10 years since my teeth were professionally cleaned.
I never understood the importance of oral hygiene. Even though my mother dragged me to the dentist for cleanings constantly as a kid. She also forced us to brush in the morning and before bed (you know, like normal people), so when I finally got out on my own in college I just fucked it off. Unless I was leaving the house for class or going to meet someone, I figured brushing my teeth wasn’t important. Wasn’t the whole purpose to stave off reeking breath?
By the time I celebrated my fifth anniversary in AA, I began to notice the calcified plaque on the inside of my lower front teeth. It was disgusting, creeping higher and higher above my gum-line. Then there were these brownish spots emerging all over the front of the same teeth.
“My teeth are rotting right in my mouth!” I thought. Convinced of this, there was obviously no point in going to the dentist. If they truly were rotting, I couldn’t possibly afford fillings and root canals since I was still slaving away in kitchens for poverty wages. I accepted the fact that my mouth would probably be toothless by 40.
During this time, I still didn’t increase my brushing or flossing—or floss at all. I still lived by the “When I leave my house or meet someone I brush my teeth, otherwise, fuck it.” Lucky for me I was working full-time, so I was at least brushing my teeth once a day. Then came the day I ate a bunch of Hi-Chew that was offered me by a sous chef at Water Grill. I took one big chomp on the strawberry-flavored candy and “Riiiiip!” A huge filling I had gotten on a molar twelve years earlier popped right out.
Instead of hitting the dentist, I just shoved it back in with my finger, and for whatever reason it stayed there. Now that I think about it, I probably should have been a tad concerned given it was a mercury filling. Health-nut types claim amalgam fillings can cause a huge host of problems ranging from insanity to autoimmune disorders to cancer. But at the time, I just wanted to be able to drink my sparkling water without experiencing the excruciating stabbing sensation that went up from my tooth straight to my eyeball after the filling popped. After a year of living with it shoved half-assed in my mouth, it came loose. I don’t remember when it came loose; I just remember sliding my tongue over the tooth one day and it was gone.
Sadly, I found it impossible to breathe without experiencing the stabbing sensation, so I signed up for a shitty Delta Dental HMO for like $100 and carted myself off to the dentist, crossing my fingers she could just fill it up with more mercury—or whatever material was dirt cheap.
“You need a root canal,” my Armenian dentist said. “It’s infected.”
“How much will that cost?” Dr. Nalbandyan did some calculations based off my insurance and said “Five hundred for the root canal and then five hundred for the crown.” I was fucked.
“How much does it cost to just pull?” I asked.
“A hundred and fifty dollars.” Was the response.
I left the office in tears, resigned to walk around with a big gaping hole in my mouth. But then I called my mother and father, begging them to help pay for it, hoping that they might be motivated by the desire for me to look presentable when the family got together. Surely they’d be embarrassed to have a daughter with a missing tooth! Especially my mother, given our Armenian family and friends value appearances hugely.
“Fine, but this is the only time I’m doing it,” both said. So I got my root canal and vowed to myself that I’d take care of my teeth from that point on, flossing every day and brushing twice. Dr. Nalbandyan also recommended a deep cleaning, or scaling, to clear out all the plaque. But for some idiotic reason, I blew it off again, partly because I couldn’t afford it, partly because I was terrified of the pain, and partly because I thought it would sort of vanish on its own.
Delusional, I know.
Two more years went by, and I fretted every time I opened my mouth in front of the mirror. The brown spots grew darker, my teeth looked more and more yellowed, and my gums were all puffed up and would bleed very easily.
So when I wound up in Budapest a few months ago with a large chunk of change in my bank account given I’d lucked into some high-paying writing assignments, I decided I’d get my entire mouth sorted out while there, paying in forints. Everyone knows dental care in the US is hiked up at least three times as high as what you’d pay abroad. So one morning, I walked into a dental office that looked inviting, one with a big, happy-looking cartoon tooth over the door, and told the assistant I wanted a scaling and whatever additional work I might need.
“I just need my whole mouth fixed,” I said.
Since the office and equipment were exceptionally clean, and since the dentist spoke perfect English, I trusted them with my mouth. (I should add that I’m Hungarian on my father’s side, so I figured I could trust my own people.) In the end, I walked away with about a thousand dollars of dental work for roughly 300 US dollars.
Most wondrous, all those brownish spots on my teeth vanished! It turns out they weren’t rotting at all—they were just stained from coffee and nicotine. She used this high-tech water and air tool to force out the plaque from my teeth and remove the stains, so the scaling wasn’t painful. And I had zero cavities! Two fillings needed to be replaced, and she did this with composites (the clear stuff), and now I can walk around with the comfort of knowing I won’t be toothless in five years.
For some reason, and I suspect it’s because I paid the tab, I snapped out of my old behaviors. I’d be lying if I said I flossed every day, but I do it nearly every day and certainly before I go out in public. I’ve also started brushing my teeth religiously, and I’m proud to say these habits have lasted. After leaving the office my mouth felt so clean—I realized it wasn’t clean before! It was ridden with God knows what bacteria and other disgustingness.
In AA, they say “First things first” a lot, and old-school sponsors often instruct their sponsees to wake up, make their beds, shower and brush their teeth. Well, it took me more than six years to get this, but I’m glad it finally clicked. Oh yeah, my teeth look way better, too, since they’re actually white. So not only will I get to keep my teeth in my mouth, but I also received a big self-esteem boost in the process.
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