When I was eight, I fell off my bike - a graceless, dramatic face-planting that sent my kid sister running and screaming into the house for my dad. I was a bloody, bruised mess!

The tumble cracked and loosened my two front incisors (already “grown-up” teeth) and set me on a path of many, many dental and orthodontic procedures and years of braces, retainers, and - yes - even headgear, which I thankfully only had to wear at night.

You’d think all those visits would assuage my fear of going to the dentist. Not so! Even as an adult, I get nervous right before an appointment. Still, I thought I’d left my bad childhood dental history behind me.

But at a recent dental checkup, my dentist held a mirror up to my teeth and asked me to take a good look. What I saw surprised me.

[Read more →]