When I check in at the dentist, I’m a walking cliché — hoping for the best, but expecting a $1,000 bill. It’s always the latter.
“Deep grooves and weak teeth,” I’ve been told by dentists. “Genetic,” like being predisposed to heart disease. I do what I can. I own an electric toothbrush, Waterpik, avoid sugar, floss every single night, and yet.
I’d been on what I’ll call a “crown journey” the last few years at the advice of my former dentist ― a $20,000 process to replace 17 (yes, seventeen) of my teeth with crowns. My dental insurance caps the amount they’ll cover every year. Since I couldn’t afford the rest out of pocket all at once, it had been a four-year equation of maxing out my benefits, letting them renew, then maxing them out again. With only my incisors and cuspids still bare, I’m just hoping none of the crowns have failed.
There is a cluster of blue balloons strung into the shape of a smile on the main wall, which looks inviting, like a birthday party, except that framed facts accompanying it spoil the mood. Fact: People with gum disease are 25% more likely to develop cardiovascular disease. And, Fact: Without proper oral health, you are 4.5x more likely to develop a stroke.
In the lobby, I flip through a pamphlet detailing this office’s partnership with VISA for a dental-only credit card. We live in a debt-driven society, so I’ve been tempted by this type of credit card a few times. Why not just pay 24% interest on my $20,000 bill for years and years and years?
