The human mouth is a crime scene!

One dental hygienist's hyperbole holds lessons for us all

The first dentist appointment I made during pandemic lockdown was an emotional affair all around. After a few months of reassuring emails from the office saying they were deploying onsite rapid testing and air purification, and that staff would all don hazmat suits and full face shields, I booked my teeth cleaning for September 2020.

As weird as I felt about leaving the house for any reason at all, I quickly reverted to my old pre-checkup habits: flossing aggressively and using my electric toothbrush for long enough over two minutes so the computerized smiley face gets stars for eyes. You see, I love getting praised for good dental hygiene.

The moment I walked into the office I started crying, then profusely thanked the receptionist for her brave service (like I said, an emotional affair). When the hygienist came to collect me, I immediately mentioned how helpful my mouthguard was. Having refused to wear it for the first six months or so, I’d since taken a liking to it and now couldn’t go to sleep without it, like a security blanket.

“Everyone who comes in these days is clenching or grinding their teeth,” she replied. Then she turned and smiled at me wryly through her face shield: “I can’t imagine why.”

A few minutes later, as I sat at a forcible recline gazing directly into that blinding lamp while the hygienist scratched plaque off my teeth, a patient walked by.

“Anything bothering you?” another hygienist asked him.

“Yeah, I think I’ve been grinding my teeth in my sleep.”

“Told you,” mine said. “The human mouth is a crime scene.”

I suppose she intended it as a precautionary tale not to ignore the signs my gaping maw tells me everyday without words. All the same, her words chilled me to the bone.

Until that moment, I figured the main crime we regularly committed against our poor mouths was burning them over and over with volcanic pizza, coffee and soup. (The dentist once called me out for having a “burnt palate.” I found this utterly mortifying.)

I’m well aware that I’ve eroded my gums from decades of overzealous brushing (which feels like not my fault when they kept telling me about the dangers of plaque). I’ve probably also worn my enamel down to nothing because I seem to prefer criminally acidic foods and beverages over all else.

But that’s all just child play. Stress, insomnia, cancer, sleep apnea, dementia: the mouth knows.

When I lived in New Mexico, the dentist I went to actually told me that my teeth were crowding out my tongue. “See those toothmarks on both sides of your tongue there?”

He told me I probably had sleep apnea and I might one day swallow my tongue in my sleep. He prescribed the book, 6-foot Tiger in a 3-Foot Cage, and I started crying right there in the dentist chair. I switched to a new dentist that very same day.

A couple weeks ago, I found out that the standup comedian Liza Treyger has a “geographic tongue,” in which harmless, sometimes painful patches resembling smooth, red islands appear on the tongue. Liza mentioned this in a hilarious Grub Street piece detailing her unhinged eating habits while celebrating the debut of her Netflix special, Night Owl.

“A dental hygienist once told me it was the reason I can’t handle spice, but I’ve been pushing myself and have made great strides,” she said, adding that she does so mainly by ordering jalapeños on her nachos.

I appreciated her can-do willingness to commit the fiery mouth crime of inflicting peppers on her poor geographic tongue. So what does that say about me?

Maybe it’s like that Seinfeld episode said. We’re all just a bunch of anti-dentite bastards who refuse to give due credence to this field. Or maybe we’re just tired of learning about yet another indicator that our bodies are stressed and overtired and unwell and that it might be due to some other, more sinister reason than a global pandemic or the fact that our democracy is now being hijacked by a handful of corrupt, loser wannabe-dictator billionaires.

WHY OF COURSE WE ARE GRINDING OUR TEETH DOWN TO NUBBINS ALL DAY AND NIGHT!

Not me though. I got the mouthguard just like they told me to. So I guess that counts as meeting them halfway. Now give me my praise and my travel-sized Pronamel and let’s don’t say another word about it.