Oral fixation
This morning I was on my back counting dots in the ceiling tile while a pleasant woman repeatedly asked me to turn my head toward her and Sheryl Crow quietly insisted that a change would do me good. (Ach, Honey, don’t I know it.) Alas, it’s not what you’re thinking. As the pleasant woman poked and prodded my fork-tender gums with what I swear is the same device we used to eviscerate fetal pigs back in freshman biology lab, I tried not to flinch or, at the very least, tried to ignore the tears running down my cheeks.
Our species may have undergone a spectacular makeover since its knuckle-dragging origins, and our phenotypes may change dramatically during our brief time on this mortal coil*, but I swear to Jesus Haploid Christ that I hate going to the dentist just as much as I did in 1972.
As the feeling left my lower extremities and the pleasant woman continued violating the Geneva Convention in 11 ways, stopping only to Hoover the blood and saliva from the recesses of my mouth, I tried to console myself with the idea that next month (right, George?), when George Church presents me with my genome sequence, I will somehow be vindicated. There amongst my motley collection of A’s, T’s, G’s and C’s will be evidence that the disaster that is my mouth is not my fault. The gum disease, the infections that have led to periodic root canals and implants, the chips and cracks that make my oral cavity indistinguishable from that of a Dickensian orphan–all will be revealed to have a genetic basis. I mean, it stands to reason that I must have a humoral immune defect or mutations affecting my periodontal tissues. Or some other pernicious host factor that renders me susceptible to tooth decay or worse. Must be, right? The PGP may not get much from my spartan medical records, I thought, but at the risk of immodesty, I am a dental genomicist’s dream: my paper trail of oral surgery, orthodontia and good old-fashioned fillings and crowns is a mile long. (Not that I’ll let any research-minded dentists anywhere near me…)
When the bi-annual ordeal finally ended and I extricated myself from the chair, I went across the street for what I thought was a richly deserved coffee and chocolate chip scone. It was then, bathed in warm glucose, that the voice of the genome du jour entered my head. “…you cannot define a life or any life based on DNA alone,” he writes in his forthcoming book. “An organism’s environment is ultimately as unique as its genetic code.”
Or, as my mother would say, “Don’t forget to floss.”
UPDATE: As usual, I am behind the curve. (thanks, Keith)
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*O Prostate, why hast Thou forsaken me?
I work as an Assistant Professor in the Duke University Institute for Genome Sciences & Policy (although this site and its content are my own).
In 2007 I became the fourth subject in Harvard geneticist George Church's Personal Genome Project. As the PGP moves forward, I am chronicling the dawn of personal genomics, that is, people obtaining their genomic information for whatever reason(s) and figuring out what to do with it. I am interested in the relevant technologies and especially the attendant privacy and other ethical/legal/social issues.
This blog may also discuss some of my non-genome interests or, to paraphrase Dwight Yoakam, "Guitars, Cadillacs, hillbilly music, etc etc."
The header image comes from the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange's multimedia performance piece, "Ferocious Beauty: Genome."
September 6th, 2007 at 12:47 am
Preachin’ to the choir, my brother.
September 6th, 2007 at 4:06 am
I was thinking of you as I was lying there, Jeff. I suppose I should be thankful this was only a cleaning…
September 6th, 2007 at 4:29 pm
As I have good teeth and no allergies, I can only conclude you guys must have some weakness or character flaw, unlike me.
I did, however, exhibit a sensitivity to the ultrasonic cleaner - when near my back teeth, it could produce a painful high-pitched resonance much like a squealing mic. Imagine the Broad St Cafe in your ear canal. The hygenist remarked that it seems only men have this problem. That’s my genetic tie-in.
I was told I could skip that procedure from now on because of the superiority of my superior teeth.
Oh, and my dad was treated for pyorrhea. Go figure.
September 6th, 2007 at 5:40 pm
I won’t speak for Jeff, but I would cop to both weakness and character flaw(s). An alternative hypothesis: Whit is just a total uber-mensch.
September 6th, 2007 at 7:09 pm
[…] I hope I’ve already welcomed GenomeBoy in the DNA-Network Team. If not, then here is a recent post: Oral fixation […]
September 6th, 2007 at 7:37 pm
[…] I hope I’ve already welcomed GenomeBoy in the DNA-Network Team. If not, then here is a recent post: Oral fixation […]
September 9th, 2007 at 7:10 pm
Hi GenomeBoy,
I loved your blog. You must have been one of those who got A’s in creative writing in highschool. :>)
I wanted to tell you that heredity may have something to do with your dental woes, but managing the bacteria (specifically, the gram negative anaerobes) is of primary importance.
I would suggest a toothpaste that you can make at home with 3 simple ingredients you probably already have in your kitchen pantry or bathroom cabinets.
Baking soda, salt (preferably sea salt) and hydrogen peroxide - mixed 50/50 with water - kills the bugs on contact.
If you want the specific recipe, it is on my website, www.mamagums.com, and is available for free as a downloadable chart.
http://www.mamagums.com/pages/oral-care-guide.html
My best wishes,
Sheila Wolf, RDH
“Mama Gums”
www.mamagums.com
September 9th, 2007 at 8:46 pm
Thanks, Mama Gums!
I have a bunch of chlorhexidine gluconate on my shelf, but I confess I’ve not been very diligent about using it. I don’t know what my problem is.
Speaking of home remedies, I’ve started using cayenne mixed with apple cider vinegar for a persistent sore throat:
http://www.earthclinic.com/CURES/sore_throat.html
It tastes like Tennessee hot sauce and it may be total snake oil, but as Steve Martin once said, “I got this great new drug: it’s called PLACEBO.”