A smile to AIM for

This is a C1 post: MG received discounted treatment.

#C1 for full details please see my disclosure policy

If you've been around these parts for a while you'd know MG was involved in a bike crash in 2015 that led to me picking his teeth up off the road (and finding them in my pocket a week later). He had some major dental work done and I was blogging for the amazing Perth dentist who did it for him. I had published two of the three posts when I had my massive breakdown. So this got pushed back. Each time I tried to re-visit it, it would remind me of why I had pushed it back and I'd have a panic attack. So here we are, one whole year after it was due to be published and I'm in a position to actually do it without rocking in the corner. Recovery takes a long time. 

We owe a debt of gratitude to the wonderful team at Aim Dental Group, and their logo will sit on my sidebar for as long as this blog exists. They have taken care of us so well and made sure we got the best treatment and then gave me time to recover from my own health dramas to get to this point. We all get our regular check ups there, and Tricky got his fissures sealed there a few months ago. I simply cannot recommend them enough. 

For now, over to Map Guy:

The Crash 

Like many new-leafers late in the Winter of 2015 I was considering my fitness options as the weather warmed. I felt unfit, wasn’t regularly playing sport and walking with the dog and kids wasn’t really giving me the boost I felt I needed. Enter cycling. My employer upgraded the daggy old showers and change rooms at our office to one of the best in WA a few years earlier. Ever since my cycle crazy boss has been trying to attract other would be pedallos in our team to his favourite sport. So sprucing up the bike, strapping on a helmet and getting moving wasn’t a hard sell on the work side, I just had to will myself out of a heated bus and into a breezy cold saddle for pre-7am starts…

I started slowly in the first week. Day 1 I rode the 3.2km to the train station locked up my bike then rode home again. That wasn’t too hard, so far so good. Feeling a little stiff in those rarely used muscles the next day I rested and returned to my walking/bus/train/walk routine.

Day 3 I tested myself and decided to go for it. I live 12km from work as the crow flies, but my first attempt at using the best cycleways available to me was a 17km trip with what seemed like the breakaway pack from Le Tour on a hill climb. You know you aren’t going to be the fittest cyclist out there but I seriously felt like I must have been frozen in stone the way I was swiftly left behind. Strangely it takes a lot of will power to convince yourself to ride your own race and not try to give chase. Shattered, but pleasantly surprised I arrived at work some 58 minutes after leaving home.

I worked up to my eventual routine and refined my route as I became more confident around traffic. The 14km route would get faster and I was so proud of myself the first week I managed to ride every single day. I stuck at it for 2 whole months until one day I didn’t make it home…

By early November I had replaced my mountain bike tyres with less knobbly road tyres, had added new cleats to keep my toes on the pedals and some grippy new handlebars kept me heading in the right direction. Confidence was high. I knew my route, was edging my way up the Strava leaderboard along my route and no longer felt like I was hideously unfit keeping up with the cycle heroes on the road.

10km into my journey home I was traversing one of the trickier sections of the ride. A long, fast downhill quickly followed by a major road crossing with older style raised islands for pedestrians and cyclists. After managing to traverse the major road crossing I was making my way slowly from the final island to the adjoining cycle path when something went wrong.

As my front wheel rolled from the islands to the road I hit something. Or maybe something hit me. Maybe my bike broke. We will probably never really know, but what did happen was the front of the bike went from under me. The wheel buckled, the brakes broke free and I went tumbling over the handlebars in what seemed like slow motion thinking to myself “maybe this is it?”

It felt like it could have been game over. My head, body, bike all cascaded to the ground in between cars waiting to turn between two busy roads, and I was knocked out.

I woke up on the ground and I could taste blood; I could feel broken teeth. My body was sore, grazed, bruised, but still able to function. I tried to get up and someone came up to me and said “are you alright?”

For what seems the first time in my life I thought about this briefly then answered “no” to a complete stranger. I wanted to say “please help me”, but the blood was flooding my mouth and the best I could do was wobble to my feet and take their hand. Another helpful person shuffled my buckled bike off the road and I was sat up against the fence as an ambulance was called. Ambulances come really quick when you’re near a major road in a city and this one was no exception. The Samaritan bystander had helped by calling Glow after I typed her details in my phone and held it up to him. In fact with a mouth full of blood, busted teeth and a blood filled riding glove trying to keep it all in there the smartphone was an invaluable communication device in close quarters even though I was struggling to think straight and wasn’t actually using the network.

The ambulance arrived then my frazzled but comforting wife. She’d shuffled the kids to a neighbour and raced from home following the sirens and flashing lights. Seeing the damage on my face, but relief that I was conscious and okay she had another kind stranger help load the broken bike into our car to take it home before driving on to the hospital.

Ambulances are a strangely intimate place to be in the back of. Much like taxis you feel like you should be saying something or this is going to be one awkward drive across town. So when asked I was trying to tell this amazing paramedic how I was feeling, but really all she wanted was a thumbs up or thumbs down and kept telling me to stop trying to speak. Her number one goal was to stop me from passing out, or at least to have some indication that I was about to.

20 minutes later I was in hospital. On an ambulance stretcher in amongst returning heart patients, elderly people struggling for breath and one guy with a nasty looking broken leg. I must have spent another 20 minutes waiting there with gauze in my mouth, blood still pouring everywhere when a triage nurse decided I was bleeding too much and he had to get me out of there.

I was shipped off to the fast track procedures room where Glow and my sister then caught up with me. My sister works at a public hospital (not this one) and immediately started asking all the right questions. The doctors weren’t too sure where to start with my injuries and when discovering that I’d blacked out during the accident (I couldn’t exactly go into much detail at that stage) shuffled me down the corridor into the Emergency Department proper.

Here every few minutes someone was now coming up to me asking how many fingers they were holding up (which was annoying as I had to find my glasses again which were increasingly uncomfortable), what day of the week it was and my full name and address. Thankfully the bleeding was starting to cease so I could tell them what they needed to hear, albeit with a toothless lisp.

Some 4 hours after the worst bike crash of my life my face was being stitched up (my chin split and both top and bottom lips badly split apart). The amazing young doctor could even recommend seeing his dentist sister at an inner city dental surgery that worked on many trauma cases.

My dental journey would start there the next day but for now, with much relief I was alive, very tired and ready to go home.

On arriving home, I asked to see my helmet. I’d always been told no helmet, no riding and I’ve instilled this in my kids since they rolled out on trainer wheels. So much so that they show equal bewilderment in seeing grown adults ride by at speed with wind blowing in the breeze.
Save to say, my helmet didn’t survive this crash. In fact it was split from the edge to the centre of the outer shell and closer inspection showed the inner foam had almost cracked through entirely.

On this day a lifetime of helmet wearing meant my children would wake up the next day and still have (a sore and sorry) father, my wife her husband and my worried parents many miles away would still hear from their son. If you’re considering taking up cycling, no matter how or where you intend on doing it make sure you have a certified Australian Standard bike helmet. It may be the one piece of equipment you maintain on your bike that stops you becoming another road death statistic.

Left: in hospital in a gown catching blood in a sick bag, dried blood covering his neck. Top right: what was left of his front teeth after having his upper lip (which was hanging off), lower lip (which was almost split in two from the inside), and chin stitched up. Bottom right: the outside view of the helmet - the inside was cracked through too, and it's not until you realize that would have been skull and brain that you go woah.

The recoveryThe day following my bike crash was literally the first day of the rest of my life. I had a stitched up face and many broken, mostly missing teeth.

The first thing that needed to happen was a trip into town to see a dentist and get X-Rays done and any immediate fixes they could do. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like crying quite so much as I did that day holding an icecream container to catch any blood and spit that was swelling in mymouth (I couldn’t swallow for fear of swallowing teeth fragments) and walking through from a crowded train station car park to the dental surgery.

The visit mainly consisted of removing bits of broken teeth as my jaw and gums were still swollen after the impact. They did some really complicated 3D imaging x-rays which involved chomping down on a bit and staying still for over a minute (not exactly comfortable when you’re missing most of your front top teeth!) then we proceeded with the first of many necessary root canals.

I went home shaken, restless and tired; still wanting to sob after running the second gauntlet across the train station bridge and seeing the estimated cost of just one tooth being $10,000 to fix.

In the following days as the swelling started to recede something amazing happened. Whether from my Glow's Facebook posts or sheer coincidence with their own social media campaign, she was contacted by a local dentist with amazing specialist experience looking to work with local social media identities.

It seems like hours between hearing about this and meeting for a consult with Aim Dental Group's Principal dentist Dr David Beecham, and business manager Christina Claridge on a Saturday of all days. He had his young kids in the room, we had ours and all were being entertained by screens and iPads while the bright lights lit up my empty mouth and he weighed up my options.

David put my mind at ease. He took my hospital and dentist x-rays, did a couple of his own then took his time over the next week or so thinking over solutions.

Two root-canal visits later and I was expecting to come in for a rather painful and invasive procedure to have a screw put in my jaw to hold one fake front tooth and a cap to be placed on what remained of the other. After spinning the 3D images a few more times (it’s awesome, you never get to see your mouth from this angle) he changed his mind and saved me thousands of dollars in the process. What happened next was amazing.

I was asked to wait in the waiting room. Why? Because my new front teeth were being optimised by the computer model, then were sent to the diamond lathe out the back where they were hewn to exacting specifications to fit over precisely what remained of my teeth and gums.

I’m sure I scared the bejeezus out of the kids sitting opposite me in that waiting room. I gave them a toothy smile (how many times in your life do you get to shock kids with a busted up mouth?) and sat reading a holiday magazine for the next half an hour. I sent Glow an SMS saying that my new teeth were being printed and I’d be finished soon, which elicited a very confused response.

Then, half an hour later I hopped back onto the dentist’s chair (complete with the US version of The Office playing on his ceiling mount TV screen as it always is) and was shown two brand new front teeth complete with matching colour to my existing teeth ready to be polished before insertion.

By this stage I’d had so many anaesthetic needles in my mouth I’d gotten past all fear of that pain and was just anxious to have my smile, my bite and lisp-free speech back. Incredibly I walked out of Aim Dental on that day with a full set of teeth and a very grateful family.

The transformation! Smash face to brace face to smiley face. You'd never know he'd smashed those four front teeth!

David and his team did an amazing job helping my recovery. He made every effort to charge the costs to my health provider where possible and in turn every member of my immediate family has been back in the intervening months for general check-ups, scale and cleans.

Today I have my appetite for steak back, I’m not afraid to bite into an apple without cutting it up first and I’m even considering returning to cycling as my transport to work. No matter where you live or what type of bike you ride I implore you to ride with a helmet strapped on firmly. My story involved repairable broken teeth, if you ever have a crash story to tell I’d like to think a helmet will have saved your brain and you’ll have the rest of your life to share it.

Mind the gap (tooth smile) - with free printable tooth fairy receipt

This is a C2 post. There was no payment for this post.

For full details please see my disclosure policy

I'm worried. Really worried.

Tricky is getting to a certain age. It's happening to all his friends, and will soon be happening to him.

No, we're not talking puberty, he'll be LOSING TEETH!

Which means... GAP TOOTH SMILES.

Insert screaming and hysterical crying here. No, not his. Mine.

OK so maybe I exaggerate slightly, but while I can handle wobbly teeth (and remember terrorizing my own family by wiggling them around all over the place), I am not a fan of the resultant gap tooth smile.

There I said it.

I don't think it's cute. I think it's completely and utterly gross.

I can only assume this extreme dislike for lost teeth comes from my own journey to gapdom which started when I was a wee babe. My parents put me to bed every night with a bottle of juice or cordial or crystal meth or something like that, and I developed cavities which led to abscesses. Serious stuff. Stuff you should avoid at all costs by taking your kids to a great kids dentist in Perth (or your own city, duh).

So at the ripe old age of two, my two front teeth were surgically removed and thus started the singing of "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth". Again and again and again. The tune can be cute once or twice. But let me tell you, the novelty wears off when it is sung to you for FIVE FREAKING YEARS.

Somewhat related: I actually talk differently to most people because I learned most of my words with my teeth missing, meaning I didn't get the temporary lisp that a lot of kids get when their two front teeth come out and leave a massive gap for their tongue to poke through. Mad skills.

Anyhow, back to what I was talking about. GAPS. I'll put on my best happy face, suck it up and be ready with my pom poms when Tricky gets his first wobbly tooth, and start figuring out exactly how he's going to lose those suckers that wobble for weeks but just don't wanna go.

According to Dr David Beecham, principal dentist at Aim Dental (also known as the dude that gave MapGuy his smile back - more on that another day), the old methods that you and I might have used to remove our wobbly teeth are now considered terribly naff by today's average five to seven year olds. And he would know, because his miniature clients tell him every day.

Here's what is in and what is out:

Three of those are just moving with the times, really. Tooth to string to door explodes in to the 21st century with tooth to string to something with three packets of batteries. But I'm not sure about the Nerf technique. Are we tying the tooth to the bullet or knocking it by firing bullets at kid's faces? Because NOTHING COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG THERE!

Tricks got a drone for Christmas (OMG who gives their five year old a drone? We do. These idiots over here) so I think we're going to have to go with the top ranking quad copter method. Keep an eye on YouTube, OK?

Despite my fear, I created two free printable tooth fairy receipts for you. Because I'm so giving, obvs. If you click the image below, you can download a sheet of three that you can print at home on an A4 page then cut up.

(Note to self: don't close editing program between versions or they'll end up slightly different sizes and annoy you SO MUCH).

I'm going to keep the filled out receipts in a scrap book that I'll probably never look through again, and throw out the teeth or donate them to the spray can factory... because that's not a myth, right? Or apparently you can also pay a shed load of money to have them cryogenically frozen for their stem cells. Nifty, but a little out of my price range.

If you use these I'd love it if you'd put a pic online and tag me :) I'm @glowless on Instagram 

You can also check 5 ways to avoid costly dental treatments for your kids over at Aim Dental.

Tell me your tooth stories - do you love the gap smile? Or do you hate it and want your child to wear a flipper like the kids on Tantrums and Tiaras? 

Top 5 Dos and Do Nots of Your Child's First Dentist Visit

This is a C2 post. There was no payment for this post.

For full details please see my disclosure policy

I've now seen two children through their first dental visits, which in blogger terms means I'm now qualified to tell you how to attempt it with your own children. HA! But rather than just take my quasi-tips as gospel, I've actually teamed up with a Perth Kids Dentist, Aim Dental, to let you guys in on some of the insider info from a dentist and a mum perspective on everything from first visits, losing baby teeth and more.

The aim (see what I did there?) is that a first dentist visit for kids should be a predominantly positive experience and there are a few things you can do to help that:

Do NOT

1. Show them that dentist scene in Willy Wonka. You know the one? Where Willy has gigantic braces on, isn't allowed to eat lollies and is abandoned by his dentist father. That one. Yeah, maybe skip that.
2. Show your fear. Are you afraid of the dentist? I can relate, I wouldn't say I'm scared, but I'm definitely not waving any pom poms. Hide it. Bottle it up. In the words of Elsa, "conceal, don't feel, don't let them know". Kids are like dogs, they can smell your fear, try not to transfer your fear to them.
3. Give your kids sugary fizzy drinks and sugary food. You'd think that was a given, but it's not. 41.8% of 5-6 year olds in WA have dental decay in their baby teeth, and 39.6% of 12 year olds have decay in their adult teeth, mostly due to a combination of fizzy drinks, sugary treats and not brushing properly. 
4. Let your kids brush their own teeth. Little kids can't brush properly by themselves, so you'll have to do it for them. Research shows that some kids will need help up until they are ten.
5. Freak out if they cry, scream, refuse to get on the chair, or refuse to open their mouth! A great kids dentist will have a longer appointment booked for a first go, and will work with you and your child to get the job done, but the calmer you stay, the better.

Tricky's been before, but Bobbin's first dental visit went better than anyone hoped

DO:

1. Brush their teeth twice a day! Try your hand over theirs if they want to do it at the same time. Tricky and Bobbin take turns with us - Mum or Dad do it first, then they get to have a go. 
2. Read some books about first dentist visits. My two loved Peppa Pig's trip to the dentist where George is scared. You can also hit up YouTube for some first dentist vids but pre-watch them because some are just weird. The image above shows the titles we read in the weeks and days leading up to Bobbin's first visit last month.
3. Find a Perth dentist who is great with kids - Aim Dental is really focussed on making kids feel relaxed. From the toy box in the waiting room while they fill out their own super cute client forms (OMG it's adorable), to the funky glasses and cool cartoons on the screen while they are in the chair (never bloody had that when I first went!), and a goodie bag with a new toothbrush at the end of their first visit, it makes for a pleasant and tear-free experience. Just look at my two! They even had a professional clean - all for the grand price of NOTHING with no gap kids dental with our health fund.
4. Brush and floss your own teeth in front of the kids - it might mean brushing well before your own bedtime and having to do it again, but seeing that you do it too and aren't just forcing them to do it can be really beneficial. 
5. Reward their first trip to the dentist with something that isn't food! A trip to the park, a picnic, bowling, half an hour on the iPad, whatever they like! 

Just look at those pearly whites!

Now that it's over... book in the next visit for six months time.

For more details from actual professional people, check out Aim Dental's 5 things to do to get your child ready for their first dental visit.

Sharp pointy things near my mouth scare me

I'm a bit scared of the dentist. Not a particular dentist, just dentists in general. Actually anyone who comes at my mouth with sharp pointy things. Not phobic though, I reserve that for feet. Though I imagine a dentist's feet to be particularly scary. 

The last time I went to the dentist I was 146 weeks pregnant and the hygienist looked distinctly worried I was going to give birth there and then. I was having a widsom tooth removed and was wondering what was going to be more painful, this or squeezing a child out of my vag. For the record, child birth hurt more but I got a cute baby afterwards - after my extraction all I got was a bloody tooth in a jar and a jaw ache.

My teeth have been feeling a little extra sensitive lately and I had a mild toothache the other night. I needed to bite the bullet (but not hard enough to break a tooth) and actually see a dentist. Knowing I would never have the guts to book in myself, Map Guy rang up and made an appointment then let me know when it was (thanks, MG!).

This morning I rocked up and I was instantly transported to back to my school days and a Catholic confessional. I wasn't sure if I was meant to bless myself or not, but I had to tell them my "sins". And my sin is a shocker: for 12 of the last 17 weeks I've barely brushed my teeth.

Yes, let's just sit with that feral thought for a moment, shall we? Rank.

ARGH! All the pointy things!

The thing is, putting anything in my mouth would make me spew. And you get no points for making blow job jokes here, because I've already made them all. Maturity, I haz it. So the toothbrush would come out twice a day and get a mere flick over the teeth until such point that I gagged. Usually around the 10 second mark. Not exactly what you'd call good oral hygiene.

You don't get absolution from a dentist for your oral hygiene sins. Instead, you get reminder that dental floss was invented for a reason and two tiny little fillings.

Or at least I will when I go back to get them in a few weeks time (already booked the appointment, now I just have to not cancel it).

I was also told I brush my teeth way too hard and am brushing off the enamel. I didn't even know that was possible! It's not bad, but if I want it fixed now before it gets worse it'll cost a cool grand... and THAT hurts way more than any dental work.

Are you afraid of the dentist? Do you feel like a dick wearing a bib or do you just pretend you're at a lobster restaurant?

Lacking wisdom

Whilst eating my lunch today I noticed that one of teeth felt a little sharp when I touched it with my tongue. So I did what any normal, non-dentist person would do – I shoved my finger back there to see what I could find. What I found was slightly disturbing – half my tooth was missing! When did this happen? There was no pain, so I don't know if it broke during lunch or weeks ago.

Of course I went straight to worse case scenario and figured that my tooth would need to be taken out without any anaesthetic due to being pregnant. Before anaesthetic you could take a swig of rum to numb the pain, but oh no, no such substances can touch this sacred vessel. A quick internet search (thank you, Google) and a call to my obstetrician's office to confirm, I found out you can have a local anaesthetic, which surprised me because you can't take plain old over the counter ibuprofen.

One phone call later and I had an appointment for 3pm down the road with a dentist I'd never met before. I was a little bit scared but figured since the tooth didn't hurt yet, I'd probably be able to wait a few weeks until Tricky is born and then go back to have the tooth taken out while under the influence of some hard core dental drugs.

I sat in the chair, pretending that I wasn't scared and the dentist, Steven, informed me that yes, my tooth had broken but luckily it was one of my wisdom teeth so it didn't need to be saved, he could just extract it. As lovely as he was I wanted to tell him that no matter how pretty he made it sound with words like 'extract' and 'remove' all I could hear was “I will GOUGE open your gums and YANK out this tooth whilst laughing at your PAIN”. He did make me feel better by telling me it wasn't my fault that the tooth had gone bad, the way it was shaped meant a toothbrush could never reach it. I bet he says that to all the heavily pregnant women though.

So I had a decision to make. Get it 'extracted' right then or leave it and wait for it to start hurting before I came back. I figured I might be really busy in a few weeks, what with an infant an all, so I decided to go ahead with it. The tooth was history.

I was draped in a very glamorous lead apron for a quick x-ray then numbed up and Steven got to work on my dodgy tooth. But that sucker just would not budge - it took 45 minutes of yanking to get it out, luckily all in one piece. By the end of it all I'd been in the chair for just over an hour and even though I wasn't in any pain I'd managed to carve half moon shapes in the palms of my hands with my fingernails, just from the tension of having to sit there. At the end he told they normally schedule a check up appointment for ten days after a wisdom tooth removal to make sure that everything is healing up properly but because my 'delicate condition' meant I couldn't be sure just how available I'd be, they'd call me at the seven day mark just to see what I wanted to do. But then it got even better, because Steven said that if I'd had the baby and was worried about my tooth (or lack there of) he would COME TO ME to check it out. How nice is that?! I have never heard of a dentist making house calls before.

The anaesthetic has worn off now and it's no where near as bad as I thought it would be. I'm left with a dull ache, a massive hole in my gum and my tooth in a little plastic bag. If I leave under my pillow I wonder if I'll get any money?