No, I don't floss. Certainly not every day twice. Pathologically honest that I am, when dental hygienists ask me whether or not I floss I answer with the truth. I am promptly given a lecture which I ignore. I'm an adult. If I don't floss it's on me. Back off, sweetheart. I know what I'm doing.
Several months ago my husband announced he was through with our dentist. "I've never been so insulted in my life," he said. "We're switching dentists."
"Okay," I replied. "I'll leave it up to you."
Soon after, he tells me we now have a new dentist, one who came highly recommended. "You should go see her while you're here," he suggests on one of my trips home, and I agree. I make my appointment and head to the office. Fast forward to the dentist's chair, I lean back, open my mouth and let the hygienist start her inspection. She pokes, she counts, and she pokes some more.
"Do you floss?" she asks me.
"Not always."
"You should. Twice a day."
"I know."
We're not off to a good start. If this were a first date there wouldn't be a second. Add to this she's very young and I'm not one who's fond of being told what to do by someone barely older than my son, so I tune her out.
"You have angry gums," she says. I sit up in the chair.
"I have what?"
"Angry gums," she replies a bit hesitant. I don't think she's accustomed to having people sit up to ask in the middle of an exam challenging her diagnosis. I decide she's new, that she takes her job a bit too seriously, and that she has difficulty picking adjectives. None are reasons for me to take her seriously. Before I leave the office she brings out a skull with a mouth full of crooked teeth and shows me how to brush properly. She also tells me if I don't use a specific toothbrush and a certain mouthwash "you might as well not be brushing." I come home and tell my husband I don't like the new dentist.
Back in Japan I decide it's time to visit a dentist here. Since moving to Japan two years ago I have yet to set foot into a doctor or dentist's office. There are two truths: I haven't been sick enough, and I don't like going to health care specialists unless it's really necessary. Both were reasons to avoid the scent of rubbing alcohol that so often fills the halls of hospitals and the offices of all things medical. Deciding if for no other reason I should find out how good my health insurance is, I ask a friend to recommend a dentist. Her husband happens to be at the dentist's office "right now" and she calls him. A few minutes later she receives a call back.
"Here," she says, giving me her cell phone. "It's the dentist."
I'm a bit surprised by this sudden call and especially that it's the dentist himself on the other end but I say my proper hellos and thank yous and make an appointment for a few months out there on the spot. While I found out the hard way at my subsequent cleaning Japanese dental hygienists are just as annoying as those in the US, I came away without insults hurled at my gums. I'll go back. Oh. And, the whole thing cost less than 900 yen.
In the US there's been a debate regarding nationalized health care. This is nothing new, and indeed there have been proponents preaching the benefits of national health care for decades. The latest mud-hurling seems to based on "If it came from Obama it must be bad" (a sentiment I find very tiresome and completely unoriginal), but alas politics are not always based on reason, and politicians on both sides are not always the brightest of the bunch.
For those who have not had the pleasure of taking part in nationalized health care, here is how it works for me in Japan. The amount I pay for my health insurance depends upon my income from the year before. This means in 2012 I didn't pay anything for my insurance as I made nothing in Japan in 2011. What I pay this year is based on last year's salary, and since my son makes more than me (I'm still essentially a volunteer) I pay very, very little. For that, I get to pick my doctors and hospitals, I'm not required to get permission to see a specialist, and it cost 900 yen to clean my teeth.
It's not a perfect system. I do believe, however, that I get extremely good care for the money I pay into health insurance. (That said, dental hygienists seem to receive the same training, at least in the US and Japan.) There's something very refreshing about having freedom and control over my own medical care. If I don't like a doctor I'll find another and not have to pay the fee with a kidney. I know I only have one experience in Japan to stack up against the years of doctor's visits back home, but I am pleased by my trip to the dentist, and I don't think I've ever said that in my life. So it is.
In closing, just because someone decided to call it Obamacare doesn't make it bad. I'm not saying everything this American president does is good, but neither am I saying everything he does bad. Living in a country where I'm finding out what joy there may be in having more control over my own health care (all without having to worry whether I can indeed afford it), let's just say I might just be a believer yet.
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