The appointment was two weeks out. But first, I had my regular cleaning.
I've had the same hygienist for three years. Lisa. She's friendly but professional. She asks about my kids, remembers their names. The kind of person who makes the dentist feel less like the dentist.
She hadn't put her mask on yet, and I noticed her teeth.
They were white. Not fake-looking, just bright and clean in a way that made me look twice. She was maybe 52, 53. About my age.
"You have really nice teeth," I said. It came out before I thought about it.
She laughed. "Thank you."
"No, seriously. They're really white. Do you get the whitening done here? I actually just booked mine."
She didn't answer right away. When she did, she kept her voice low.
"I probably shouldn't be telling you this."
"Everything we do here, it's all peroxide. Same thing that's in the strips you'd buy from the drugstore, just stronger."
I nodded. I'd heard this before.
"I set up those trays for patients three, four times a week. I apply the gel. I monitor them through it."
She paused again.
"I would never use it on my own teeth."
I just looked at her.
"A lot of the people I do this on have a rough time with it. And afterward, some of them can't eat for a day or two. The results fade. People come back for touch-ups every few months. It's good money for the practice." She glanced toward the back. "We've had reps come in with products that don't cause the sensitivity. But the stuff costs next to nothing. There's not much money in it for us."
"So what do you use?" I asked.
