I’d Give My Eye Teeth
On Dentistry and Money
The phrase, “I’d give my eye teeth” dates back to the 1800s and is a sign that you’d trade for something valuable. Getting your “eye teeth” means you have a full set of adult teeth, that you are old enough to have grown wise, even though your eye teeth are your canines, those pointy ones toward the front. They are, quite appropriately, located beneath your eyes.
When you have your eye teeth, you see things.
My grandmother, who died at age 91, had all her own teeth.
Same goes for my mother, who died in her seventies.
My brother and I saw Dr. Myer every six months like clockwork as kids. Routine checkups were just that — routine.
I had braces put on by Dr. Castano, whose office was some 18 miles away from our little hamlet in rural Pennsylvania at considerable expense to my parents, but the idea of having a mouth with less than grade-A teeth was not an idea they ascribed to.
Then I became an adult. I was left to my own devices for things like dental care, and although I still thought it was very, very important to see the dentist, we all know that in modern America, eyes and teeth have their own, separate insurance. Which is weird, but fodder for a different essay.
Like many of us, when I was in my early 20’s, I skipped a couple of dental visits because I didn’t have insurance. I did, though, still take great care of my teeth.
When I was finally married and had access to the full force of the great insurance package of a public school teacher (those folks don’t get paid a lot, but their insurance is pretty great, believe it or not), I resumed regularly scheduled visits.
For my children, I had chosen not just a dentist, but a pediatric dentist. Dr. Maggie was fantastic. She came highly recommended, and it was easy to see why. She had a bright personality, she took a polaroid photo of every child in the “no cavity club” and posted it on the office wall, the kids got to wear cool child-sized sunglasses. It was a great dental onboarding experience.
Then came the day that my oldest son had a gumline cavity in a baby tooth molar. Dr. Maggie’s professional opinion was to extract the tooth, insert a spacer to prevent any collapsing movement of the surrounding teeth, and keep the jawline steady for the next few years until the adult tooth emerged through the surface. This process would require light anesthesia, take a couple of hours, and cost a few hundred dollars.
It was the right thing to do. Making sure that my son’s teeth were clean and solid, that his future teeth emerged as straight and strong as possible. Of course we’d have the procedure. I scheduled it for the next available date.
My partner (who was not yet my husband) was appalled by the sticker price.
While I wasn’t thrilled at the thought of a few hundred out-of-pocket dollars for a dental procedure, I was far, far less thrilled at the frightening notion of a three year old going under even “light” anesthesia and having a tooth extraction at such a young age.
Different priorities.
On the day of the procedure, I wasn’t supposed to drive my son all by myself, as someone needed to be in the back seat with him, to ensure his safety and well-being. I enlisted my brother. He took an hour or so from his work schedule to accompany us back home, to get my son safely settled in.
Several years later, when it was time for braces, I took that same son to the orthodontist. He was just in 4th grade. They start them young now, to get a head start so it’s less painful. Look at any 4th grade class and you’ll see rows of kids with expanders and appliances, slurping and smacking their lips.
Even the good insurance of a public school teacher left me with a total co-pay of $3,000. My husband suggested taking him to the nearby university dental school, where they use patients as teaching tools. I’m not patently opposed to that, and in fact support the idea of teaching hospitals, but the university was a 30-minute drive from the elementary school (the orthodontist I’d selected was a mile away) and after doing a bit of research, the cost savings was less than $100 a month.
About eight years ago, just a couple of years prior to our separation, I was at that very university dental school my ex husband had advocated, sitting in the chair, being poked and checked. I got the bad news that I needed my first root canal and crown.
I had already undergone some pretty impressive jaw surgery, aligning my upper and lower jaws (totally covered by insurance), and I wanted to take care of my teeth as well as I could. My partner’s insistent focus on lower-cost dental care, and my willingness to participate in a dental learning environment had led me to be a willing participant in the university dental school program. I felt like I got good care.
One of the conditions, though, was at the dental school there is no deferred payment plan, no monthly co-pay when a serious issue like a root canal arises. The total cost of restoring the tooth would be $283. My other option was to have the tooth extracted, at a cost of $35.
When I delivered the news to my husband, the choice was clear.
To me, the choice was equally clear.
We definitely disagreed.
A compromise, according to the university dental program, was to have the potion of the procedure that was covered by insurance, completed and have the “cosmetic” portion completed later. I chose that.
The basic procedure was to remove the live portion of tooth, the root and cavity and to insert a post and core, removing any decay present in the tooth and inserting a type of “mortar” that would solidify the tooth but that left me with a rather grainy, but functional basic tooth surface. It was grey, flat, and lower than my adjoining teeth, but I salvaged the tooth itself. I did not have an extraction.
I would be like my mother and grandmother and not begin to descend the slippery slope of removing teeth. Restorative dentistry is universally considered the preferred approach. It is healthier, and much better in the long term.
So yesterday. Yes, yesterday. Finally, after twenty some months of Covid and my own trepidation and anxiety and not one, but a series of appointments with a fantastic boutique dentist here in my new city, I left the dental chair with a shiny new porcelain crown. I didn’t bat an eye at laying down well over $400 for beautiful dental work that included a couple of small fillings, a brilliant cleaning and exam, and even some god music in the background while I sat reclining in the chair.
It’s been a long time since I grew actual eye teeth, but not so long since I’ve been able to see. I had to learn my own value, and why it’s worth paying for what is important. I’m disappointed in myself for living with that crummy partially-finished tooth in my head for as long as I did. I’m disappointed that I didn’t stand up to the pushback about every dental choice all along the way, but that’s all in the past, and I’ve got my “eye teeth” now.
