My Fleep:
Health
Health
Does an Orthodontist Need to Know Your Age?
Are you old enough to remember Cher? If so, do you remember
what her teeth looked like when she first started out? I am
probably the only person on earth with the same crooked
teeth.
The good news: she got hers fixed, and so did I.
The bad news. I don't know what her teeth look like now but
I am having a problem with mine. In my case, it seems
Mother Nature doesn't like being shoved around and is
trying to put my teeth back where she originally placed
them.
My unattractive teeth have been the bane of my existence
all of my life. As a child I remember looking in the mirror
trying to decide how to smile so no one would notice my
crooked upper teeth. My lower teeth are straight so I
figured out how to smile showing my lower teeth while
keeping the upper teeth covered. What a talented kid I was!
As a teenager, I was so bummed out by my teeth that I was
convinced I would never find a husband. Of course, I did.
While in pharmacy school, I picked off one of the choicest
bachelors on the faculty. Dr. Morris knew a good thing
when he saw it. (He claims he never noticed my teeth. Love
is blind.)
As the years passed by, a procedure called "bonding" came
into use that was effective in improving the appearance of
crooked teeth. The only problem with bonding is that after
a while, it wears off and you are back to square one.
At age 69 I decided to bite the bullet and had braces put
on my teeth. Metal braces are ugly on kids and they were
especially unattractive on me. (I could have believably
played the role of "Ugly Betty.") But it was okay. I knew
that eventually, I would look fabulous. And indeed, the
anticipated miracle finally took place.
Here I am at 78 and noticing that my two front teeth are
"heading back home." It's pretty obvious so I decided that
rather than wait for them to shift completely to their
original position, I'd go to an orthodontist and try to
stop what was happening.
But I'm thinking, "At 78, am I am crazy?" Imagine, I was
thinking that even though I preach that you shouldn't allow
awareness of your age affect decisions you make about how
you live your life. So I gave myself a mental smack on the
side of the head and made an appointment with the
orthodontist recommended by my regular dentist. (He knows
my age and thought it was a great idea.)
Here's where it gets cute. The young girl who answered the
phone in the orthodontist's office was very nice. She
asked me some inoffensive questions and then proceeded to
ask my age. I thought, "I'll be damned if I'm going to tell
her. What does my age have to do with straightening my
teeth?"
I told her, "I'm ageless."
"Excuse me?" she chirped.
Trying to be equally chirpy, I repeated, "I'm ageless. My
chronological age is meaningless. I live my perceived age."
She paused, probably never having heard that line before
and with a little less chirpiness in her voice, countered
with, "But when I mail the information you will need, I
need to know how to address you. Should I say "Dear Parent"?
I laughed and assured her, "That'll work!"
She laughed too, and reverting to full cheerful chirpiness,
she chirped, "Well, okay!"
And okay it is.
My point in telling you all this is that I'm tired of being
asked for information that is not necessary. If you pay
cash or with a credit card, much of the information on a
"new patient" form is not needed. So in addition to not
divulging my age, I did not give up my social security
number or driver's license number.
Be fearless. Know when it is appropriate to provide
requested personal information, and when you know it's not
necessary, don't cave in. Sure, anyone can find anything
they want to know about you in an instant. Privacy laws are
a joke. But why make it easy?
And above all, never reveal your chronological age. If you
are pressed to do so, tell your perceived age.
I don't know about you, but I'm forty. On good days, I'm
thirty. How old are you? I don't need to know, but you
should be ready with an answer when someone with a "need to
know" asks, but doesn't really need to know.
----------------------------------------------------
Barbara Morris is a pharmacist and author of Put Old on
Hold. Visit her web site, http://www.PutOldonHold.com and
sign up for her free content-rich newsletter and receive a
complimentary copy of special report, "Thirteen Diva Tested
Tips for Fabulous Skin."
Are you old enough to remember Cher? If so, do you remember
what her teeth looked like when she first started out? I am
probably the only person on earth with the same crooked
teeth.
The good news: she got hers fixed, and so did I.
The bad news. I don't know what her teeth look like now but
I am having a problem with mine. In my case, it seems
Mother Nature doesn't like being shoved around and is
trying to put my teeth back where she originally placed
them.
My unattractive teeth have been the bane of my existence
all of my life. As a child I remember looking in the mirror
trying to decide how to smile so no one would notice my
crooked upper teeth. My lower teeth are straight so I
figured out how to smile showing my lower teeth while
keeping the upper teeth covered. What a talented kid I was!
As a teenager, I was so bummed out by my teeth that I was
convinced I would never find a husband. Of course, I did.
While in pharmacy school, I picked off one of the choicest
bachelors on the faculty. Dr. Morris knew a good thing
when he saw it. (He claims he never noticed my teeth. Love
is blind.)
As the years passed by, a procedure called "bonding" came
into use that was effective in improving the appearance of
crooked teeth. The only problem with bonding is that after
a while, it wears off and you are back to square one.
At age 69 I decided to bite the bullet and had braces put
on my teeth. Metal braces are ugly on kids and they were
especially unattractive on me. (I could have believably
played the role of "Ugly Betty.") But it was okay. I knew
that eventually, I would look fabulous. And indeed, the
anticipated miracle finally took place.
Here I am at 78 and noticing that my two front teeth are
"heading back home." It's pretty obvious so I decided that
rather than wait for them to shift completely to their
original position, I'd go to an orthodontist and try to
stop what was happening.
But I'm thinking, "At 78, am I am crazy?" Imagine, I was
thinking that even though I preach that you shouldn't allow
awareness of your age affect decisions you make about how
you live your life. So I gave myself a mental smack on the
side of the head and made an appointment with the
orthodontist recommended by my regular dentist. (He knows
my age and thought it was a great idea.)
Here's where it gets cute. The young girl who answered the
phone in the orthodontist's office was very nice. She
asked me some inoffensive questions and then proceeded to
ask my age. I thought, "I'll be damned if I'm going to tell
her. What does my age have to do with straightening my
teeth?"
I told her, "I'm ageless."
"Excuse me?" she chirped.
Trying to be equally chirpy, I repeated, "I'm ageless. My
chronological age is meaningless. I live my perceived age."
She paused, probably never having heard that line before
and with a little less chirpiness in her voice, countered
with, "But when I mail the information you will need, I
need to know how to address you. Should I say "Dear Parent"?
I laughed and assured her, "That'll work!"
She laughed too, and reverting to full cheerful chirpiness,
she chirped, "Well, okay!"
And okay it is.
My point in telling you all this is that I'm tired of being
asked for information that is not necessary. If you pay
cash or with a credit card, much of the information on a
"new patient" form is not needed. So in addition to not
divulging my age, I did not give up my social security
number or driver's license number.
Be fearless. Know when it is appropriate to provide
requested personal information, and when you know it's not
necessary, don't cave in. Sure, anyone can find anything
they want to know about you in an instant. Privacy laws are
a joke. But why make it easy?
And above all, never reveal your chronological age. If you
are pressed to do so, tell your perceived age.
I don't know about you, but I'm forty. On good days, I'm
thirty. How old are you? I don't need to know, but you
should be ready with an answer when someone with a "need to
know" asks, but doesn't really need to know.
----------------------------------------------------
Barbara Morris is a pharmacist and author of Put Old on
Hold. Visit her web site, http://www.PutOldonHold.com and
sign up for her free content-rich newsletter and receive a
complimentary copy of special report, "Thirteen Diva Tested
Tips for Fabulous Skin."