Quietly ask yourself the following questions:
Have you done everything you were taught to do in dentistry and don’t feel fulfilled?
Did you grow up thinking that everyone who wore a white coat was a health care authority and to be believed/trusted? Do you still feel that way?
Is dentistry/orthodontics really evidence based and actually a health care profession?
Did you know that orthodontists in the early 1900s were treating patients in the primary dentition to prevent mental retardation? Do you wonder why you weren’t taught to do this?
Have you been in practice 10+ years and dread going to work on Monday morning? Have you considered quitting dentistry and doing something else?
Are you an orthodontist that has followed your patients long enough to see them stop wearing their retainers, witnessed the inevitable relapse, felt guilty, and seriously questioned what you were taught to do?
Would you feel more valuable as a human being and health care professional if you were doing something that truly improved a person’s health and longevity?
These are uncomfortable questions that I asked myself over 40 years ago after being in practice fewer than 10 years. Confronting doubts about what I was taught was uncomfortable, but necessary. I had to change and embarked on a C.E. journey to learn from others who had similar thoughts but were further along in the process.
When I truly examined my education, I realized I had not asked hard questions of my instructors. I had always asked “how” and not “why.” I had accepted things without challenge.
I was taught that:
Malocclusion was genetically determined.
It was not preventable.
Teeth and jaws were separate from the rest of the body.
Retraction and alignment with braces were standard practice.
Headgear and extractions were acceptable without question.
No one ever asked if such treatment was safe and effective like an FDA approved drug. I learned to put braces on quickly and efficiently, and I was good at it. Financially, it was rewarding.
I began to look at the faces after treatment. I learned from others treating TMJ problems that I was probably producing them. I could no longer ethically continue doing what I had been trained to do.
Fortunately, I found mentors who questioned everything they had learned. What I discovered through them made sense, and I loved the faces of their patients.
When I studied my own pre- and post-treatment lateral head x-rays, I noticed airway improvements in patients treated with new methods, and airway reductions in traditionally treated patients. I was appalled. There was no turning back.
I realized my formal training was not based in science despite words to the contrary. I had to trust myself and my observations.
I began asking parents questions about their child’s birth, health, sleeping patterns, and behavior. I realized how few children were truly healthy. I began to see how everything was connected.
When kids could sleep and breathe properly, their behavior changed. Parents thanked me for what I was doing and for the early interventions that made a difference in their children’s lives.
Gradually, I realized I could finally call what I was doing health care.
I now refer to my “former life” in the profession as the time before I asked myself the hard questions. I’m not proud of what I was doing then. But because I changed, I’ve had a fulfilling life in what I consider a true health care profession.
I want to pay it forward by sharing my experiences with others through mentorships. Asking yourself the hard questions can free you from the doubts, worries, and frustrations that so many dentists and orthodontists face.
As one of my best mentors, Dr. Omer Reed, said:
“If it’s been done it’s probably possible.”
It’s been done.
It’s possible.
